T  ...-.::    5*.^ 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


JACK  HARKAWAY 


AND  HIS  SON'S 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA 


BY 

BRACEBRIDGE  HEMYNG 


COMPLETE 


CHICAGO: 
M.   A.    DONOHUE   &   CO. 


M.A.    DONOHUE&c  COMPANY 

PRINTERS  AND    BINDERS 

4O7.429    DEARBORN    STREET 

CHICAGO 


H  ?7 ; 


JACK  HARKAWAY  AND   HIS  SON'S 
ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

IN   AUSTRALIA. 

WHEN  all  was  landed,  the  sailors  who  had  rowed  Hun- 
ston  ashore  got  back  into  their  boat. 

"Good-bye,  Hunston,"  said  Sam  Mason;  "you're  a 
gallus  black-hearted  swab,  but  I  hope  you'll  mend  your 
ways  and  do  well.  Remember  your  old  friends  on 
board -" 

Hunston  turned  sharply  round  at  this. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  in  low,  deliberate  accents,  "I  shall  not 
forget.  Tell  Harkaway  that  from  me.  I  hope  that  we 
may  meet  again,  and  when  we  do,  I  shall  be  sure  to  re- 
member all  your  kindness — all." 

"Do  you  hear  that,  men?"  exclaimed  Sam  Mason, 
"  There's  a  brave  chap  for  you.  He  waits  till  the  gov- 
ernor is  a  blessed  long  way  out  of  hearing  before  he  vent- 
ures to  threaten.  He  reminds  me  of  the  chap  as  went 
on  to  Highgate  Hill  to  tell  the  Lord  Mayor  that  he'd  pull 
his  nose." 

Hunston  stood  upon  the  beach,  watching  the  receding 
boat,  and  when  it  was  too  far  for  them  to  be  able  to  dis- 
tinguish his  movements,  he  sank  upon  the  ground  and 
buried  his  face  in  his  hands — a  prey  to  the  bitterest 
thoughts. 

The  shock  of  solitude  was  dreadful. 

Before  he  met  a  human  being  again,  he  was  destined  to 
go  through  many  desperate  adventures. 

But  now  we  have  to  follow  the  cruise  of  the  "West- 
ward Ho  ! " 


6  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

Before  there  was  a  new  moon,  the  "Westward  Ho !  " 
anchored  in  Sydney  cove. 

On  the  day  that  our  hero  and  his  friends  took  up  their 
quarters  in  the  chief  hotel  of  Sydney,  there  was  consider- 
able excitement  afoot  respecting  a  person  who  is  destined 
to  figure  in  these  pages. 

This  was  a  very  extraordinary  character — a  rover,  a  bush- 
ranger and  bandit,  known  as  Captain  Morgan. 

Now  the  charges  against  this  desperado  were  many  and 
of  a  serious  description. 

A  price  was  set  upon  him,  but  he  contrived  to  play  at 
hide-and-seek  with  justice. 

Glaring  placards  were  stuck  about  the  hotel  even  in 
the  dining-hall  and  in  the  principal  drawing-rooms ;  in 
fact  everywhere  that  it  was  likely  to  attract  the  attention 
of  residents  and  travellers. 

"ONE  HUNDRED  POUNDS  REWARD 

Will  be  paid  for  the  body — alive  or  dead — of  the  notorious 
bushranger,  bandit,  and  cattle-stealer,  commonly  known 
as  Captain  Morgan.  He  stands  five  feet  eight  inches  and 
a  half  in  his  stockings  ;  is  very  broad-chested  and  thickly 
set.  He  has  light  brown  hair  and  beard,  full  blue  eyes, 
and  his  expression  is  usually  one  of  fierce  determination. 
He  is  possessed  of  great  physical  strength,  activity,  and 
daring.  The  chief  scenes  of  his  depredations,  are  the 
small  stations  up  country,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Macquarie.  Morgan  is  a  dead  shot.  The  band  he  com> 
mands  is  composed  of  escaped  convicts,  malefactors,  and 
many  of  the  natives.  The  above  reward  of  one  hundred 
pounds  will  be  paid  to  anyone  bringing — or  causing  to  be 
brought — the  said  Captain  Morgan  to  Government  House, 
Paramatta. 

"By  ORDER." 

"I  hope  we  are  not  going  to  fall  foul  of  this  precious 
robber  here, "  said  Harkaway. 

"  Let  us  hope  not,"  said  Jefferson.  "  Although  it  would 
not  surprise  me,  for  it  seems  to  be  about  our  luck." 

"Well,  what  with  Monastos  and  that  other  ruffian  in  the 
mountains,  we  have  had  to  tackle  some  desperate  charac- 
ters in  the  way." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TRA  LI  A.  7 

"  It  has  become  a  regular  trade  with  you,  Jack."  laughed 
Harvey. 

"  I  wonder  if  this  Captain  Morgan  is  only  half  as  great 
a  hero  as  they  pretend?  "  said  Harkaway. 

"I'll  wager  that  it  is  some  muscular  ruffian,"  said 
Jefferson. 

"And  a  low,  wicked,  ugly  vagabond,"  added  Harvey. 

"Yes." 

"  But  why  ugly  ?  "  exclaimed  Harkaway.  "  Morgan,  I 
have  heard,  is  a  very  handsome  fellow." 

"Well,"  said  Jefferson,  thoughtfully,  "  without  know- 
ing any  thing  of  Captain  Morgan  I  should  say  that  there 
is  a  dash  about  him,  and  that  he  is  not  wanting  in  cour- 
age." 

"You're  right  there,  sir,"  said  a  strange  voice,  close 
behind  him. 

They  all  turned  round. 

The  speaker  was  a  thick-set,  well-proportioned  man  of 
a  little  over  the  middle-height  and  dressed  in  a  fashion 
which  set  off  his  muscular  proportions  to  great  advan- 
tage. 

He  had  on  high  Jack-boots  which  came  partly  up  the 
thigh,  blue  serge  breeches  which  fitted  him  tightly  and 
showed  the  muscles  of  his  thighs  above  the  boots  and 
below  the  tunic,  standing  out  in  big  bosses  that  told  their 
own  tale. 

He  wore  a  loose  sack  of  red  flannel  formed  into  a  tunic 
by  a  thick,  rough  hide  belt  round  his  waist,  from  which 
dangled  a  long  cavalry  sword. 

His  hair  was  auburn  and  his  beard  sandy,  with  rather 
a  reddish  dash  in  it,  while  his  face,  which  had  once  been 
fair,  was  deeply  bronzed  now  with  exposure  to  the  burn- 
ing Australian  sun. 

He  had  a  full  blue  eye,  and  seemed  born,  like  Mars,  to 
threaten  and  command. 

"You're  right  there,  sir,"  repeated  the  stranger,  "Cap- 
tain Morgan  is  not  wanting  in  courage. " 

They  turned  to  survey  the  speaker,  and  he  bore  their 
scrutiny  with  the  greatest  possible  coolness. 

"You  know  Captain  Morgan,  then?  "  said  Jefferson. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  stranger,  smacking  his  boots  care- 
lessly with  the  handle  of  his  whip.  "  I  have  often  been 
close  to  him. " 


8  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"Well,"  said  Dick  Harvey,  pointing  to  the  placard,  "I 
shouldn't  care  to  boas  tmyself  of  that  man's  acquaint- 
ance. " 

"I  don't  boast  of  it,"  returned  the  stranger.  '  Boast- 
ing upon  any  subject  is  not  a  weakness  of  mine.  I  have 
been  at  very  close  quarters  with  Captain  Morgan,  and  ! 
didn't  like  it,  not  at  all.  I  can  take  my  own  part  pretty 
well  as  a  rule." 

"Sol  should  say,"  answered  old  Jack,  surveying  him 
from  top  to  toe  with  a  critical  eye. 

"Yes,  and  yet  I  did  not  get  any  thing  more  satisfactory 
from  the  meeting  than  this. " 

He  pointed  to  the  mark  of  a  freshly-healed  sword-cut 
upon  his  right  cheek. 

"I  begin  to  see,"  said  Dick  Harvey.  "You  must  be  a 
member  of  the  mounted  police  ?  " 

The  stranger  nodded. 

"One  of  the  Sydney  Mounted  Police  stationed  up  the 
river.  Far  ?  " 

"The  last  station." 

"  You  would  know  Captain  Morgan  if  you  met  him  ?  * 

"Amongst  a  million,"  answered  the  stranger. 

"I  suppose  he  never  ventures  near  to  Sydney?  "  said 
Jack. 

"Indeed  he  does.     That's  the  reason  I  am  here  now.** 

"Here?" 

"  Yes  ;  I  had  to  assure  myself  that  it  was  neither  of  you 
gentlemen. " 

"Neither  of  us  !  " 

"Yes  ;  Captain  Morgan  is  reported  to  have  said  that  he 
meant  to  have  a  look  at  the  celebrated  Jack  Harkaway, 
and  as  that  celebrity  is  here  somewhere  Captain  Morgan 
is  like  enough  to  be  here.  He  disguises  himself  with  very 
remarkable  dexterity  and  his  audacity  helps  him  through 
every  thing  he  tries.  Here  he  is  or  will  be. " 

"What,  here  in  Sydney  !  "  ejaculated  Jefferson,  in  sur- 
prise. 

"Yes." 

"Impossible  !" 

"You  don't  know  this  Captain  Morgan.  He  rather 
likes  thrusting  himself  in  the  lion's  den.  He  has  said 
that  he  would  look  up,  and  see  Mr.  Harkaway,  and  he'll 
do  it.  as  sure  as  I  am  here. " 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  g 

"  I  shall  believe  it,"  said  Harvey,  "  when  we  see  him 
here  ;  not  before. " 

The  police  officer  turned,  and  gave  Dick  an  odd  look. 

"  You  are  a  sceptical  man,  and  I  don't  think  that  you 
would  believe  it  even  then." 

"  Even  when  ?  " 

"Not  even  if  you  saw  Captain  Morgan  himself  before 
you.  Excuse  me  contradicting  you,"  retorted  the  officer, 
"but  remember  my  words." 

So  saying,  he  turned  to  Jack  Harkaway. 

"You  are  Mr.  Harkaway,  I  presume?  "  he  said. 

Jack  bowed. 

"That  is  my  name." 

The  officer  gave  old  Jack  a  sharp  glance,  taking  in  his 
appearance  from  top  to  toe,  and  reading  his  expression 
with  the  look  of  a  man  who  was  a  keen  judge  of  men. 

"I  suppose  there  has  been  a  deal  of  exaggeration  in 
what  I  have  heard  of  you,"  said  the  police  officer;  "I 
looked  upon  it  all  as  a  Baron  Munchausen  tale.  It  is 
some  gratification  to  find  that  there  really  is  such  a  man 
as  Jack  Harkaway.  If  I  can  be  of  any  service  to  you 
while  you  are  in  Sydney,  I  shall  be  very  glad." 

"  You  are  very  kind." 

A  confused  murmur  of  voices  was  heard  at  this  junct- 
ure, which  apparently  caught  the  officer's  ear. 

He  bowed  to  the  company  generally,  and  moved  to 
the  door. 

"  If  you  come  across  Captain  Morgan  to-day "  said 

Dick. 

The  officer  turned,  holding  the  door-handle. 

"  Yes,  what  then?" 

"Tell  him  that  we  have  a  renowned  old  bird-catcher 
here,  who  will  certainly  put  salt  on  his  tail  when  the 
Sydney  police  have  failed." 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  officer,  smiling,  "and  what  is  the 
name  of  your  renowned  old  bird-catcher,  sir?  " 

"  The  grand  old  fellow's  name  is  Mole." 

"  Mole,"  said  the  officer  ;  "  I  shall  remember  Mole." 

"  He  is  not  a  person  anyone  would  forget  who  has 
once  seen  him,"  said  Harvey;  "he  is  a  regular  man- 
killer." 

The  officer  bowed,  and  passed  out. 

Now  the  commotion  below  had  grown  still  greater, 


10  JACK  HARK  A  WAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

barely  had  the  door  closed  upon  the  stranger,  when  an- 
other door  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room  opened,  and 
three  men  burst  in. 

"  Hullo  ! "  ejaculated  Jefferson,  "  this  is  rather  uncere- 
monious." 

"Excuse  me.  gentlemen,"  said  the  foremost  of  the 
three;  "there  is  no  time  for  ceremony.  Have  you  seen 
him  ? " 

"  Who?  "  asked  Harkaway,  in  wonder. 

"  Captain  Morgan  ?  " 

"The  devil  take  Captain  Morgan,  and  fly  away  with 
him,"  returned  Harvey,  petulantly. 

"  We  haven't  seen  him  nor  do  we  want  to." 

"  But  he  was  here." 

«  Who— Morgan  ?" 

' '  Yes,  Morgan — the  bushranger  and  murderer. " 

"You  are  mistaken,"  replied  Jack  Harkaway.  "The 
only  person  that  has  been  in  this  room  besides  ourselves 
for  the  last  hour,  was  one  of  the  mounted  police." 

"A  broad-shouldered  fellow,  with  a  sandy  beard?" 
exclaimed  the  new-comer. 

"Yes." 

"Which  way  did  he  go?"  demanded  the  former,  ex- 
citedly. 

"  Out  at  that  door." 

"Quick,"  ejaculated  the  other,  fiercely  turning  to  his 
companions.  "Sharp's  the  word,  men,  or  he'll  escape 
us  yet." 

The  Harkaway  party  looked  at  each  other  half  stupe- 
fied. 

"Is  it  possible  that  that  was  Captain  Morgan?"  de- 
manded Jefferson. 

"Yes." 

"  Then  we  have  been  sold,  with  a  vengeance." 

"  Sold  !  "  quoth  the  officer,  with  some  thing  like  con- 
tempt in  his  tone,  "  of  course  you  have.  Sold  !  " 

He  turned  to  his  companions,  and  exclaimed — 

"  Off  with  you — fly  !  cut  off  his  retreat.  Don't  fire  upon 
him,  unless  you  find  it  impossible  to  stop  him  otherwise. 
It  will  be  a  feather  in  our  caps  to  take  him  alive. " 

The  two  men  flew  back  by  the  door  through  which  they 
came,  and  the  head  or  leader  rushed  to  the  window. 

He  dashed  it  open  and  leant  out  eagerly. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TRA  LI  A .  1 1 

"Ha!  there  he  is!  We  shall  be  in  time.  Morgan, 
yield  yourself  a  prisoner  !  "  he  shouted  ;  "  yield,  or  I  fire  !  " 

"  Take  that !  "  returned  a  clear,  ringing  voice. 

"  Bang  !" 

"That"  was  a  bullet  from  a  long  horse-pistol. 

The  man  at  the  window  ducked  just  in  time,  and  the 
bullet  smashed  a  big  looking-glass  in  the  room. 

' '  Curse  your  impudence  !  "  cried  the  man  at  the  window, 
furiously.  "  Here's  at  you  !  " 

He  drew  a  pistol  and  fired. 

There  was  heard  the  clatter  of  a  horse's  hoofs  below 
and  the  sound  of  a  horse  at  full  gallop. 

Then  a  loud,  ringing  laugh. 

"  He's  off !  "  cried  the  man,  in  bitter  vexation.  ' '  They'll 
never  get  near  him.  They  might  as  well  try  to  hunt  down 
a  flash  of  lightning  as  Captain  Morgan." 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    HULKS TRAVELLERS    MEET     WITH     VERY     STRANGE    BED- 
FELLOWS  HOWTORO  AND  BIGAMINI  MEET  AT  THE  ANTIPODES 

THE    RESULTS    OF    THE    ENCOUNTER SCENES    OF    CONVICT 

LIFE  AT  BOTANY  BAY. 

UPON  a  certain  day,  in  the  fall  of  the  year ,  H.  M.  S. 

"  Thunderbolt"  arrived  at  one  of  our  chief  ports  in  New 
South  Wales. 

The  cargo  of  the  ' '  Thunderbolt "  was  an  ugly  one — 
convicts. 

Amongst  the  batch  of  convicts  in  question  were  two 
men,  who,  although  known  by  unrecognisable  aliases 
now,  had  at  one  time  been  known  by  names  which  are 
familiar  to  all  who  have  followed  the  varied  fortunes  of 
Jack  Harkaway. 

One  of  these  was  an  Italian,  of  gigantic  form,  who  had 
been  captured  by  Nabley,  the  English  detective. 

The  Italian  convict  was  Toro,  the  giant  brigand. 

The  other  convict  was  an  Englishman. 

He  was  a  Cockney,  who  had  shown  great  cunning  at 
his  trial,  and  cross-examined  the  witnesses  for  the  prose- 
cution with  the  skill  of  an  Old  Bailey  barrister. 


12  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

But  do  what  he  could,  he  failed  to  get  off ;  and  there 
was  Mr.  Samuel  Perks,  alias  Bigamini,  for  a  matter  of 
seven  years. 

Now,  strange  to  relate,  the  other  convict,  to  whom 
allusion  has  been  made,  and  Toro,  never  once  met,  for 
the  convicts  were  divided  off  into  gangs,  and  seldom  or 
never  came  into  contact. 

The  difference  between  the  two  villains  was  very  re- 
markable. 

Toro  was  bold  and  defiant  throughout. 

Bigamini,  on  the  contrary,  did  all  his  best  to  propitiate 
the  chaplain. 

"  Safe  card  that,"  he  would  say  to  himself.  "  Get  the 
right  side  of  the  old  smiter,  and  you're  safe  for  a  ticket  ; 
that's  my  game,  and  it's  worth  a  good  deal  of  soft  sawder 
to  land  it." 

He  was  right  in  his  tactics,  as  the  result  showed,  for 
before  the  voyage  was  completed,  the  reverend  gentleman 
whose  mission  it  was  to  endeavour  to  bring  back  those 
erring  men  into  the  right  path  was  quite  taken  by  his 
show  of  contrition. 

"  As  you  are  so  truly  repentant, "  he  would  say,  con- 
tinually, "  it  will  be  an  easy  matter  for  you  to  obtain  a 
mitigation  of  your  harsh  sentence,  and  I  will  exert  myself 
to  that  end. " 

"  How  very  good  of  you,  sir,"  the  artful  Bigamini 
would  say,  in  his  own  peculiarly  slimy  manner;  "  too 
good,  too  good,  sir,  for  such  a  wicked  sinner  as  I 
am." 

"Nothing  can  be  too  good  for  a  sinner  who  truly  re- 
pents," the  chaplain  would  reply  at  this. 

And  so,  as  the  time  went  on,  Bigamini  had  an  excellent 
chance  of  getting  off,  as  many  a  scoundrel  has  got  off 
before,  by  means  of  a  sneaking,  hypocritical  air,  and  pro- 
fessions of  good  conduct 

Matters,  however,  were  very  different  with  Toro. 

The  doctor  had  discovered  that  the  Italian's  robust 
health  was  giving  way  under  such  close  confinement, 
and  ordered  him  to  take  exercise. 

The  first  day,  in  spite  of  all  his  experience,  his  temper 
gave  way  under  the  infliction  of  having  a  man  fixed  to 
him  by  the  arm,  and  he  turned  with  savage  brutality 
upon  the  keeper. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  i$ 

"I  should  like  to  have  your  blood  !"  he  said,  with  a 
suddenness  and  vehemence  that  quite  startled  the  man. 

The  keeper  looked  round  at  his  companion,  and  saw 
by  the  vicious  expression  of  his  countenance  how  sincere 
he  was. 

"What  have  I  done  now?  "he  said,  in  a  half  joking 
yet  earnest  manner. 

"You  are  hateful  to  me,"  retorted  the  convict  fiercely, 
"and  I  should  like  to  have  my  arms  free  to  show  you 
how  I  hate  you." 

"Thank  you,"  returned  the  keeper  coolly  ;  "I  suppose 
you  would  like  your  arms  free,  providing  mine  were 
fastened." 

Toro's  right  wrist  was  fastened  by  the  handcuff  to  the 
gaoler's  left,  and  he  turned  upon  him,  giving  it  such  a 
fierce  wrench,  that  it  hurt  them  both. 

"Drop  that,"  exclaimed  the  gaoler,  nettled  at  having 
his  wrist  hurt,  "or  I'll  put  you  on  your  back." 

This  brought  matters  to  a  crisis  at  once. 

With  a  fierce  imprecation,  the  Italian  now  grabbed  at 
the  keeper,  but  the  latter  caught  him  by  the  hand  and 
held  him  powerless. 

"You're  an  impetuous,  imprudent  fool,"  he  said,  star- 
ing the  convict  in  the  eyes. 

Toro  struggled  and  wrestled  to  get  free,  but  the  keeper 
was  used  to  rough  work  of  this  kind,  and  he  was  too 
much  for  the  Italian  giant. 

"  If  you  don't  keep  quiet,  you'll  get  put  into  irons." 

Toro  tore  franctically  at  the  keeper,  and  finally  mad- 
dened with  rage  and  humiliation,  struck  him. 

The  keeper  then  lost  his  temper,  and  dashed  his  fist 
into  the  convict's  face,  with  a  force  that  made  him  see 
sparks. 

At  this  point,  there  was  a  general  rush  to  them. 

Keepers  and  convicts  (the  latter  anxious  to  curry 
favour  with  the  folks  in  authority)  fell  upon  the  rebellious 
prisoner,  and  bore  him  down. 

"Unlock  the  handcuff  first,"  said  the  big  keeper. 

This  done,  one  of  the  convicts  dropped  on  the  still 
struggling  rebel  with  his  knee  upon  his  chest,  and  so 
pinioned  him  down. 

"Keep  quiet,  will  you?"  said  this  zealous  convict 
holding  the  Italian  :  "remember,"  he  added,  sinking  his 


I4  JACK  HA  RKA  WAY  AND  HIS  SON  '5 

voice  to  a  whisper,  "remember  how  Barboni  came  to 
grief  through  temper. " 

Toro  ceased  struggling  immediately. 

-Who?"  he  faltered. 

"Barboni." 

"  How  do  you  know  Barboni?  "  demanded  Toro. 

"  The  same  way  that  I  know  you,  Toro.  I  kept  my 
eyes  open,  and  I  never  forget  a  face  when  once  my 
blessed  peepers  have  lighted  upon  it.  Oh,  dear,  no." 

"Who  are  you — what  is  your  name?"  demanded  the 
mystified  Italian. 

"Hush,  we  are  observed.  Here,  you  fellows!"  he 
added  aloud,  seeing  that  their  hurried  conversation  was 
attracting  attention  ;  "keep  quiet." 

The  men  were  coming  from  the  guard-room  with  a 
stretcher  for  Toro's  special  service. 

And  now  they  were  close  upon  them. 

"One  word  more,"  exclaimed  Toro;  "tell  me  your 
name." 

"When  you  were  known  as  Toro,"  answered  the  art- 
ful convict,  "I  was  Bigamini.  Here  I  am  Mr.  Samuel 
Perks,  Esquire,  alias  Smiffins,  alias  Number  4,093,  a  re- 
pentant lag  awaiting  his  ticket." 

"  What !  "  cried  Toro,  "  Bigamini  ? " 

"Yes,  hush!" 

"Is  it  possible?  " 

"  Of  course,  and  what's  more,  when  you've  got  over 
this  job — though  it'll  take  you  weeks  and  lots  of  good 
behaviour — then  I'll  show  you  a  thing  or  two,  and  in- 
struct you  how  to  make  life  happy  even  at  stone-breaking 
on  a  skilley  diet.  Not  a  word  more  now,  but  keep  your 
eyes  and  ears  wide  open." 

The  stretcher  came  up,  borne  by  four  stout  men. 

"Now,  you  wicked,  bad  feller,"  said  Number  4,093, 
with  a  snuffle;  "mend  your  ways,  and  be  advised  by 
one  who  has  seen  his  sin.  Oh,  yea  !  " 

Toro  was  not  to  be  converted  so  easily. 

A  bitter  imprecation  escaped  him  as  they  bore  him 
away  strapped  to  the  stretcher,  powerless  to  help  himself, 
hand  or  foot 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTKALIA . 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    STORY  OF    TWO    CONVICTS — THE    ARTFUL    DODGE — EPISODES 
IN  THE  CARE  OF  TWO  VERY  BAD    LOTS — HOW    THEY    WORKED 
THE     ORACLE. 

THE  words  of  the  convict  No.  4,093  sank  deeply  in 
Toro's  mind. 

Those  words,  coupled  with  the  rough  discipline  which 
his  outbreak  had  brought  down  upon  him,  had  a  most 
salutary  effect. 

So,  bending  his  head  before  the  exigencies  of  his  posi- 
tion, the  Italian  convict  became  a  hypocrite,  and  uncon- 
genial though  the  part  was,  he  soon  became  an  adept 

The  consequence  was  that  at  the  expiration  of  a  few 
weeks  he  was,  by  the  doctor's  request,  permitted  once 
more  to  take  open-air  exercise. 

He  longed  to  see  his  fellow-convict,  No.  4,093. 

He  longed  to  make  inquiries,  but  dare  not  for  fear  of 
exciting  suspicions,  and  when  night  came,  back  he  went 
to  his  cell,  lowered  in  spirit,  and  heartsick  with  hope 
deferred. 

He  passed  a  feverish  night,  and  when  the  morning 
came,  he  was  resolved  to  question  some  of  the  people 
about  Bigamini,  but  he  labored  under  a  certain  drawback, 
and  this  was  that  he  was  ignorant  of  the  name  under 
which  Bigamini  was  convicted. 

But  to  his  intense  joy,  his  eye  lighted  on  a  figure  which 
recalled  Bigamini,  and  on  his  back  was  the  number  4,093. 

He  watched  and  chose  an  opportune  moment  to  speak 
to  him  when  no  one  was  by. 

"Bigamini,  caro"  he  said,  earnestly,  "you  haven't 
forgotten  me  ? — Toro  !  "  he  added,  as  the  other  passed 
on  without  heeding  him. 

Toro  saw  him  go  by  in  despair,  and  then  he  ran  after 
him  in  desperation. 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Bigamini,  looking  in  another  direction 
as  he  spoke  ;  "  we  are  watched." 

This  answer  shot  a  gleam  of  hope  into  Toro's  breast 


16  JA  CK  HARK  A  WAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

Bigamini  was  not  cutting  him  either  through  forget- 
fulness  or  for  other  reasons. 

He  was  only  waiting  for  a  favourable  moment. 

Toro  followed  him  up,  keeping  at  a  little  distance  until 
they  had  got  beyond  a  small  clump  of  trees. 

"Now,  tell  me,  Bigamini,"  he  said,  in  imploring  tones, 
"when  shall  I  see  you?  when  shall  I  know  if  there  is  to 
be  an  end  to  this  life,  worse,  far  worse  than  a  living 
death  ? " 

"  Keep  behind  me  still,"  said  Bigamini,  in  a  subdued 
voice;  "and  I  will  try  and  answer  you." 

"I  will,  I  will !"  exclaimed  the  Italian  eagerly. 

"  You  must  keep  down  your  temper  ;  play  hypocrite 
night  and  day,  and  then  I  will  show  you  how  we  can 
work  it." 

' '  Tell  me  what  I  have  to  do — say  what  I  can  do  ;  any- 
thing you  say  I  will  gladly  do.'* 

"Show  patience,  bow  your  head  meekly. 

"What  for?" 

' '  Because  it  has  already  got  me  better  grub  than  you 
get.  The  chaplain  (good  man  !),  he  likes  to  think  that 
his  pious  counsels  have  been  successful,  and  he  recom- 
mends me  to  the  notice  of  the  governor,  who  is  always 
much  influenced  by  the  words  of  the  clergyman,  and 
that  gets  me  off  stone-breaking  and  oakum-picking,  and 
other  hard  jobs,  and  presently " 

"Yes,"  said  Toro,  eagerly,  " and  presently ?" 

"It  may  get  me  a  little  liberty." 

"Hah!" 

"And  then,  if  an  opportunity  offered,  who  can  say 
what  might  happen  !  " 

"Who  indeed?"  exclaimed  Toro,  chuckling  in  a  sub- 
dued manner,  lest  he  should  be  overheard. 

"  I  might  glide— if  I  saw  the  way  clear— and  you  might 
glide  too  ;  we  should  be  company.  J  long  to  do  those 
little  matters  in  company.  It  has  been  my  ruin  to 
be  too  fond  of  company,"  added  No.  4,093,  woefully, 
"for  I  took  a  wife  or  two  too  many  because  of  this 
weakness. " 

"You  got  transported  for  bigamy  ?  "  said  Toro. 

The  other  groaned. 

Alas,  alas ! 

"  A  dreadful  wicked  thing,  Mr.  Toro,  "said  he,  with  a 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  i  j 

sigh  and  a  hypocritical  smirk  which  he  had  contracted 
since  he  had  been — as  he  expressed  it — "dodging  the 
parson  ;  "  "the  voyage  in  their  transports  is  by  no  means 
transports  of  delight." 

****** 

The  good  chaplain  consulted  with  Bigamini  about  the 
repentant  sinner  in  whom  he,  Bigamini,  appeared  to  take 
such  interest. 

"  Does  he  seem  to  be  penetrated  with  the  gravity  of  his 
position  ?  "  the  reverend  gentleman  would  constantly  in- 
quire of  Bigamini. 

To  this  the  latter  was  careful  to  reply,  for  he  knew  that 
the  least  extravagance  on  his  part  would  do  more  harm 
than  good  to  the  cause  in  view. 

"He  is  becoming  gradually  more  and  more  open  to 
reason,  sir,"  Bigamini  would  reply,  hanging  his  head, 
"But  I  can't  say  in  fairness  that  he  is  a  convert." 

"Patience,  patience,"  the  worthy  gentleman  would 
reply  ;  4<  we  must  not  hope  to  do  it  all  at  once.  A  good 
work  is  not  to  be  accomplished  without  trouble,  patience, 
and  perseverance,  my  good  man." 

"No,  sir,  no,"  quoth  No.  4,093,  meekly;  "I  wish  I 
could  follow  the  good  example  which  you  set  me." 

"Ah,  my  friend,"  said  the  clergyman  ;  "I  am  only  an 
erring  man  like  yourself — a  weak  worm.  I  sin  hourly. 
I  strive  to  keep  in  the  right  but  narrow  path,  and  fre- 
quently I  strive  in  vain." 

In  the  end,  the  convict  No.  4,093  gave  it  as  his  opinion 
to  the  chaplain  that  the  Italian  was  growing  convinced 
of  the  error  of  his  ways,  and  would  be  reasonable  if  he 
were  but  permitted  to  take  exercise  with  the  rest  of  the 
convicts. 

"I  am  afraid  that  the  governor  will  rather  oppose  that," 
said  the  chaplain,  "after  his  violent  conduct  with  the 
warder  that  day." 

'  No  wonder,  sir,"  returned  Bigamini. 

'  He  is  a  very  dangerous  character,  I  fear " 

'  He  was. " 

'  Do  you  think  that  there  is  no  longer  any  danger?  " 
'None,  sir." 

'Well,  well,"  said  the  reverend  gentleman,   "I  will 
see  what  can  be  done." 

"  My  only  desire,  sir,"  said  Bigamini,  "  is  to  impart  t9 
2 


1 8  JACK  HA RKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

him  some  of  those  words  of  hope,  those  crumbs  of  com* 
fort  which  I  have  gleaned  from  you — to  save  an  erring 

soul,  if  I  can." 

****** 

"  I  have  obtained  permission  of  the  governor,"  said  the 
chaplain,  a  day.  or  two  after  the  foregoing  conversation  ; 
"but  it  is  accompanied  by  certain  irksome  conditions." 

Bigamini  smiled  in  what  he  deemed  a  sweet  and  saintly 
manner. 

"Oh,  sir,  we  must  be  thankful  for  small  mercies,"  he 
said,  with  a  snuffle. 

"You  must  go  out  in  twos,"  said  the  chaplain, 
"coupled." 

"Like  dogs " 

"Hush." 

"Oh,  sir,  I  don't  complain.  I  am  only  too  glad  to  be 
humbled  as  low  as  they  will.  I  have  sinned,  and  as  you 
truly  say,  I  must  expiate  my  fault." 

The  chaplain  bowed  his  head  in  humility. 

Bigamini  clenched  his  hand  tightly  and  muttered  to 
himself — 

"  If  I  had  you  alone,  I  should  feel  joy  in  strangling 
you  with  these  hands." 

The  chaplain  sighed.  But  he  had  not  overheard  the 
muttered  remark  of  the  convict. 

"  How  are  we  to  go  ?  "  asked  Bigamini,  with  some  thing 
like  impatience  in  his  tone,  in  spite  of  his  eagerness  to 
suppress  it. 

The  chaplain  took  a  written  order  from  his  pocket  and 
read  it  aloud — 

"Number  4,093  is  to  accompany  Number  4,112,  hand- 
cuffed together,  the  right  wrist  of  Number  4,112  to  the 
left  of  Number  4,093." 

Bigamini  quickened  his  hearing. 

"Are  we  to  be  marched  along  by  a  driver,  like  the  un- 
happy negroes  ?  " 

"  No,  no  ;  that  humiliation  is  spared  you." 

"  I  do  not  ask  it,  sir.  It  is  meet  that  I  should  suffer  all 
the  degradation  of  my  sentence." 

"Hush!"  said  the  chaplain,  pressing  the  convict's 
hand  with  emotion. 

****** 

"Well,"   muttered  Number  4,093,   to   himself,   as   the 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  1 9 

good  chaplain  disappeared,  "as  an 'umbug,  I  feel  that 
I'm  a  gem  of  the  first  water.  They're  few  and  far  be- 
tween as  can  'old  a  candle  to  me.  I  do  it  so  regular, 
right-down  real,  too,  and  the  water  comes  to  my  blessed 
peepers  in  the  affectin'  parts.  I  don't  wonder  as  I  takes 
in  the  old  devil-dodger.  Why,  I  reg'lar  deceives  myself 

at  times,  s'elp  me  Robert ! " 

*  *  *  *  *  # 

The  roll  was  called  over,  and  the  convicts  were  paraded 
for  exercise. 

In  twos  or  threes,  handcuffed  or  chained  together,  they 
came  along  the  parade-ground,  passed  in  revision  by 
several  of  the  officers  of  the  settlement. 

And  foremost  amongst  them  was  the  big  burly  warder  to 
whom  the  rebellious  Toro  had  been  chained  upon  the  last 
occasion  of  his  appearance  in  public. 

He  looked  hard  at  Toro  and  strode  up  to  him. 

"  So  you're  tamed  down  a  bit,  are  you  ? "  he  said. 

Toro  was  silent. 

"  I  thought  you  would  alter  your  tune,  you  mad  fool. 
Those  capers  aren't  to  be  tried  on  here.  You  have  learnt 
that  at  last." 

The  Italian  quivered  from  head  to  foot  with  rage  sup- 
pressed. 

A  warning  jerk  from  Number  4,093  upon  his  wrist  kept 
one  great  fact  before  him. 

Only  an  affectation  of  humility  could  help  him  now. 

The  law  was  too  strong  for  him  here. 

He  was  in  the  toils  and  he  must  submit. 

"It  was  lucky  for  you  that  they  came  and  dragged 
you  away,"  pursued  the  big  warder,  tauntingly;  "for 
bad  as  what  you  got  was,  it  is  nothing  to  what  I  should 
have  given  you  myself." 

"Hah!  " 

"Quiet  !  "  growled  Number,  4,093,  in  an  undertone. 

"I  had  to  chastise  a  rough  like  you  once,"  said  thfr 
gaoler,  noting  the  torture  he  was  inflicting  upon  the  con- 
vict with  considerable  satisfaction. 

"  I  wish  I  had  you  alone  somewhere,  with  these  cursed 
things  off  my  wrists,"  muttered  Toro  to  himself. 

"Quiet," hissed  Bigamini.      "  Don't  you  see  his  game? " 

"  Curse  him  !  "  muttered  the  Italian. 

"  Only  once,"  continued  the  big  warder.     "  He  did  not 


20  JACK  HA  RKA  WAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

want  talking  to  again.  He's  in  the  hospital  now,  and 
has  been  ever  since  ;  and  as  for  you,  if  they  had  but  left 
you  alone  in  my  care,  I  would  have  whipped  you  until 
you  would  have  crawled  and  fawned  at  my  feet  like  a 
well-licked  hound." 

The  word  was  given  to  march. 

Number  4,093  glanced  up  at  his  companion. 

Number  4,112  was  bleeding  profusely  at  the  mouth. 

He  had  bitten  his  lip  through. 

All  his  sufferings  were  as  nothing  compared  to  what  he 
had  to  go  through,  in  listening  to  the  taunts  of  the  tan- 
talising gaoler. 

"Curse  you  !  curse  you  ! "  he  kept  muttering ;  "if  ever 
I  get  you  alone,  I'll  strangle  you. " 

"  Swaller  it,  swaller  it,  Toro,"  whispered  his  comrade  in 
the  gang  ;  "  swaller  it,  and  you'll  laugh  last." 

Toro  grunted. 

"Perhaps." 

"Very  much  so  ;  look  at  them  green  fields  over  there 
— look  at  that  'ere  river,  and  the  'ills,  and  the  walleys." 

"  Yes,"  said  Toro,  bitterly  ;   "and  look  at  these." 

He  lifted  his  right  wrist,  and  his  companion's  left, 
pointing  in  bitterness  to  the  iron  gyves. 

"Well,"  said  Bigamini ;  "what  of  that  ?  " 

"What's  the  use  of  green  fields  with  these  on  ?" 

"  I  can  slip  'em." 

"  How  ?  They  never  leave  you  the  least  thing  to  make 
use  of ;  why,  the  very  spoon  we  eat  their  accursed  poison 
out  of,  is  chained  down  to  the  table." 

"Shall  I  tell  you  a  secret?"  said  Bigamini,  looking 
about  him  nervously. 

Toro's  curiosity  was  excited  by  the  other's  manner. 

"  Yes  ;  what  is  it?" 

"  I've  found  a  old  rusty  nail  in  my  caboose,  and  I've 
hid  it  away." 

"What  rubbish  is  this  you  are  talking?"  said  Toro, 
angrily  ;  "  what  is  the  use  of  that  ?  " 

Number  4,093  smiled  with  a  pitying  expression. 

"  Hinnercent !  "  he  said;  "teething  lambkin.  Why, 
there  ain't  a  blessed  lock  in  all  London,  from  a  Bramah 
to  a  Chubb,  but  I  can  pick  with  a  nail ;  and  do  you  think 
as  I'm  to  be  beat  by  a  pair  of  regglelation  darbies  at  the 
antypoads  ?  Get  on  with  you." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA^  2 1 

Toro  brightened  up  at  this. 

"  Bravo  !  " 

"  Wery  much  bravo." 

"  You  are  a  genius,  Bigamini,  in  your  way." 

"  It  all  comes  of  being  used  to  the  artful  line,"  said 
4,093,  modestly.  "  Why,  when  first  I  used  to  do  the  de- 
cayed mechanic  outside  the  pubs  on  Saturday  nights,  I 
felt  quite  nervis,  and  the  first  fit  I  had  in  the  street,  I  did 
it  so  bad,  that  the  crusher — who  was  only  a  green  hand 
hisself — browned  at  once  to  my  game. 

"  '  Come  now,'  says  he  ;   '  keep  moving.' 

"  Then  he  gives  me  a  clump  with  his  mutton  fist. 

"  '  Spit  out  yer  mottle,'  says  he,  and  gives  me  another 
clump  ;  whereupon  I  glode." 

Toro  smiled. 

"  1  suppose  it  has  its  advantages,"  he  said,  endeavour- 
ing to  appear  gracious  to  his  companion,  to  whom  he 
looked  now  for  liberty  ;  "  but  for  my  part,  I  think,  I 
would  sooner  jump  into  the  sea  than  live  like  that." 

Number  4,093  smiled. 

"  You  always  was  give  so  to  the  dangerous  line,"  he 
said;  "my  notion  is  safety.  I  earnt  a  honest  living  for 
years,  with  the  broken-crock  fake." 

Toro  stared. 

"  The  what?" 

"The  broken-crock  fake;  you  don't  know  that? 
Thought  not.  Don't  want  much  capital  neither  to  work 
it ;  only  a  sickly  mug,  you  see." 

"  You  did  well  then?" 

"Yes,  I  did  so.  I  found  a  basket  in  Covent  Garden 
Market,  when  the  salesman  wasn't  looking,  and  I  filled 
it  with  broken  crocks." 

"  Crocks?" 

"  Earthenware,  chaney,  and  glass,  old  broken  things  I 
took  off  dust-'eaps.  This  load  you  carries  on  your  'ead, 
until  you  come  to  a  quiet  spot  in  a  nice  retired  street, 
when  you  pretend  to  slip  ;  down  you  goes,  crocks  and 
all ;  out  comes  the  ladies,  sympathising  dears,  and  sees 
you  weeping  copious  over  your  basket,  and,  as  a  rule,  they 
ask  the  value  of  your  basket  of  earthenware.  You  says 
that  it's  a  choice  lot  of  goods  you  had  just  bought  for  trad- 
ing honest,  and  in  eight  cases  out  of  ten,  they  subscribes. 


22  JA  CK  HARK  A  IV A  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

Well,  the  worst  I  ever  did,   was  half  a  wheel,  and  that  in 
a  comparative  poor  neighbourhood." 

"  Half  a  wheel?" 

"  Two-an'-six." 

"  I  see  ;  and  why  did  you  quit  such  an  admirable  call- 
ing ? "  demanded  Toro. 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  answered  Bigamini,  looking  very 
straight.  "  I  forgot  one  day,  and  worked  in  the  same 
street  twice  in  the  same  week.  A  young  woman  pops 
out  of  the  corner  house,  which  I  thought  it  was  a  chance, 
for  I  goes  down  ter  with  the  sex  as  a  rule.  I  was  on  my 
blessed  mettle  then,  and  meant  landing  a  thick  un  at 
least,  an'  so  as  I  laid  down  on  my  back  in  the  middle  of 
the  broken  crocks,  I  thought  I'd  throw  in  a  fit  as  well,  just 
to  work  the  extra  sympathies. 

"  The  young  gal,  with  theyaller  'air  and  the  blue  eyes, 
looked  on  curious-like,  but  never  offers  so  much  as  a 
tanner.  A  gent  comes  up,  and  says  he — '  Poor  fellar, 
here's  half  a  crown  for  you.'  I 'eld  up  my 'and  for  it^ 
when  the  gal  drags  his  hand  back.  '  Don't  give  nothing, ' 
says  she,  '  it's  all  a  trick  ;  I've  seen  him  do  it  several  times. 
The  crockeryware  is  already  broken.'  '  The  wagabone,' 
says  the  toff,  '  we'll  run  'im  in,'  and  they  did  it,  too  ;  and 
the  worst  was  that  while  I  was  up  before  the  beak,  I  was 
recognised  by  a  peeler' as  a  party  that  was  wanted  for 
another  job,  and,  the  beasts,  that's  why  you  see  me  here 
now. " 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   LONE  WANDERER   IN  THE    DESERT — HOPES,    FEARS,    AND 
PERILS — THE  SAVAGES'  CAMP. 

WE  shift  the  scene  once  more. 

In  a  lone  and  desolate  tract  of  the  country,  a  solitary 
wanderer  was  slowly  dragging  his  weary  course  along. 

A  miserable  man,  with  pale,  careworn  cheeks  and 
deeply-sunken  eyes,  who  laboured  painfully  at  every  step. 

His  garments  hung  in  rags  about  his  shrunken  form, 
and  the  wretched  remnants  of  what  were  once  upon  a 
time  jack-boots,  were  now  kept  upon  his  feet  by  means 
of  strings  or  thongs  cut  out  of  thick  hide. 


4D  VENTURES  IN  A  US TR ALIA.  2 3 

Many  and  many  a  weary  mile  had  he  wandered  on 
without  seeing  the  face  or  form  of  a  human  being. 

And  when  the  sense  of  his  desolation  and  loneliness  fell 
upon  him  he  passed  through  a  series  of  sensations  which 
pen  cannot  even  faintly  describe. 

He  crawled  along  as  far  as  he  was  able,  until  one  day 
he  sank  exhausted  by  the  wayside,  and  he  hoped  that  he 
was  going  to  die. 

"  Most  men  are  afraid  to  die,"  he  thought  to  himself, 
"  and  here  am  I  ready  to  rejoice  could  I  know  that  this 
hour  was  to  be  my  last  on  earth.  Will  it  never  end  ? " 

Ah,  yes  ! 

Perhaps  when  he  least  expected  it. 

Perhaps  the  awful  moment  would  come  when  he  would 
have  changed  his  frame  of  mind. 

He  had  but  one  subject  constantly  on  his  mind. 

Death  ! 

Now  his  thoughts  flew  upward,  and  he  asked  himself  if 
he  had  sinned  so  deeply  as  to  beyond  all  hope  of  re- 
demption. 

"Is  it  possible  that  there  is  no  hope  whatever  for 
such  a  wretch  as  me?  Have  I  offended  so  deeply,"  he 
asked,  with  upturned  eyes,  "  that  I  am  lost  for  ever  and 
ever?  No,  no,  no;  a  hundred  times  no!  I  will  not 
believe  it  ;  it  would  be  a  culumny  upon  Heaven  to  say  it  !  " 

Strange  words  these  for  such  a  man  as  Hunston. 

He  ventured  to  breathe  a  prayer. 

As  the  old  familiar  words,  that  in  his  childhood  he  had 
first  learnt  to  utter,  kneeling  in  his  mother's  lap,  passed  his 
lips,  he  sank  upon  his  knees,  and  cried  aloud  for  mercy. 

Scenes  of  his  innocent  boyhood  flashed  in  rapid  succes- 
sion through  his  mind,  and  the  feelings  evoked  sent  the 
tears  to  his  eyes,  and  in  piteous  accents  he  prayed  to  be 
allowed  to  die. 

And  praying  thus,  he  sank  gradually  down  and  dropped, 
without  intending  it,  into  a  profound  sleep. 

He  must  have  slept  for  several  hours,  for  when  he 
opened  his  eyes,  the  sun  was  sinking  rapidly  below  the 
horizon. 

Considerably  refreshed  by  the  rest,  he  arose  and  stretched 
himself  out. 

"  The  best  sleep  I  have  had  for  many  a   day,"  he  ex- 


24  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

claimed — "  many  a  day — aye,  for  many  a  week,  many  a 
month,  I  might " 

He  paused.     Hark ! 

"What's  that?" 

A  distant  echo  of  a  blast  upon  a  horn. 

He  looked  anxiously  about  him,  and  presently  dis- 
cerned, far  away,  a  black  mass  of  moving  objects,  the  first 
glimpse  of  which  set  his  heart  throbbing. 

Instinctively,  he  guessed  that  it  was  a  mob  of  human 
beings. 

He  watched  the  black,  waving  mass  intently  for  a  con- 
siderable time. 

Presently,  having  assured  himself  that  they  were  coming 
in  that  direction,  he  began  to  look  about  him  fora  hiding- 
place. 

"  That  clump  of  trees  will  do  for  me,"  he  said. 

So  off  he  ran  as  fast  as  his  legs  would  carry  him,  and 
having  picked  out  a  roosting-place,  up  he  clambered,  and 
perched  so  as  to  be  able  to  take  observations  while  re- 
maining unseen  himself. 

' '  They're  blacks  !  " 

They  were  indeed. 

A  whole  clan  of  the  aborigines,  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren. 

The  appearance  of  these  people  was  a  surprise  to  Hun- 
ston,  for  he  had  seen  several  of  the  natives  of  New  Zea- 
land, the  Maories,  and  they  were  as  fine  specimens  of 
manhood  as  the  earth  can  show. 

These  Australians  were  the  very  reverse. 

Ugly,  ungainly  figures — hideous  flat  faces,  smeared 
with  horrible  pigments,  which  made  them  look  like 
Chinese  idols  more  than  human  beings. 

Hunston  had  heard  of  these  people,  as  far  as  character 
went. 

He  knew  that  their  chief  characteristics  were  cruelty 
and  vindictiveness. 

Their  enmity  to  the  whites  was  fierce  and  undying. 

"If  I  show  myself,  I  am  lost  here,"  thought  Hunston. 

He  was  right.  His  life  would  not  be  worth  five  min- 
utes' purchase. 

"They're  coming  here." 

Right  once  more. 

Straight  to  that  clump  of  trees  they  marched,  yelling 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


25 


discordantly  as  they  came,  throwing  up  their  arms,  and 
capering  about  in  the  most  alarming  fashion. 

Under  the  shade  of  the  leafy  boughs  they  pitched  their 
camp. 

"  I  am  lost !  "  murmured  Hunston. 

His  heart  sank,  and  he  was  rilled  with  fears  of  death  ! 

He,  who  for  weeks  past,  had  been  longing  for  it  as  the 
end  to  all  his  woes. 


CHAPTER  V. 

WHEREIN    TWO    OLD    FOES    MEET    FACE   TO    FACE "THE    DOGS 

THAT   THEY    HUNT    THE    NIGGERS    WITH." 

THE  HARKAWAYS  made  up  their  minds  to  travel  up  the 
country,  beyond  the  last  station  upon  the  big  river. 

"  We  have  exhausted  every  possible  style  of  locomo- 
tion, "  said  old  Jack,  when  they  were  discussing  the  par- 
ticulars of  the  project,  "rail,  boat,  and  horseback,  but  it 
will  be  a  new  sensation  to  voyage  by  caravan." 

"So  it  will." 

"We  can  have  a  saddle-horse  or  two  for  those  who 
wish  to  Distinguish  themselves  before  the  ladies." 

"  Mr.  Mole,  for  instance,"  suggested  Dick. 

The  old  gentleman  turned  sharply  round. 

"Not  so  much  of  your  chaff,  Mr.  Harvey,  if  you 
please,"  said  he;  "I  have  shown  to  as  good  advantage 
in  the  saddle  as  most  people  here  present." 

Old  Jack  stared  again. 

Lying  old  rascal  as  he  knew  Mole  was,  he  did  not 
think  that  he  would  venture  such  a  cram  as  this  in  their 
presence  ;  but  young  Jack  was  present,  and  he  liked  old 
Mole's  romancing  too  well  to  have  his  reminiscences 
nipped  in  the  bud. 

"  You  had  a  good  seat,  Mr.  Mole  ?  "  he  said,  innocently. 

Mr.  Mole  smiled  in  a  pitying  manner. 

"You  haven't  heard  much  about  horses  at  your  early 
period  of  life,  my  dear  Jack,"  he  said,  "or  the  name  of 
Mole  would  have  sounded  '  familiar  in  your  ears  as 
household  words,'  as  the  poet  says,  in  connection  with 
the  equine  race" 


26  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON  'S 

"You  surprise  me,"  said  Harvey,  pretending  to  take  n 
all  in. 

"I  had  a  pony  once  that  would  take  a  five-barred 
gate " 

"  For  supper?  "  suggested  Dick. 

"No,  sir,  at  a  leap." 

"And  where  would  it  take  the  five-barred  gate  to?" 
demanded  Harvey. 

"  I  mean  clear  it." 

"  Clear  it !  '  repeated  Dick.  "Why,  you  talk  of  a  pony 
as  if  it  were  a  cask  of  wine  ;  and  what  is  the  object  of 
Clearing  a  pony  ?" 

"  Rubbish  !  "  cried  Mr.  Mole,  furiously. 

"What  a  singular  object,"  said  the  imperturbable  Dick. 
'And  do  you  employ  white  of  eggs  or  steel  filings  ?  " 

"Bah  !  "  yelled  Mole,  savagely,  while  the  rest  of  the 
company  were  trying  vainly  to  suppress  their  mirth ; 
"you  pretend  not  to  believe  it,  but  you  know  well  how 
true  it  is,  for  you  remember  the  pony  well." 

"Of  course  I  do,"  exclaimed  Dick,  "well,  indeed;  it 
was  a  native  of  Jerusalem." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  the  listeners. 

And  this  put  an  end  to  Mr.  Mole's  anecdote. 

The  preparations  made  for  the  new  journey  were 
necessarily  long  and  costly. 

They  had  eight  large  waggons  horsed  with  stout  teams 
and  well  provisioned. 

They  had  to  hire  several  servants,  and  for  these,  accord- 
ing to  custom,  they  went  to  the  prison,  where  there  are 
always  a  number  of  men  on  hire  amongst  the  discharged 
convicts  or  men  who  by  good  conduct  have  earned  their 
tickets  of  leave,  and  amongst  the  number  were  two  in 
whom  we  take  a  certain  interest. 

"No.  4,093  !"  was  called  out  by  one  of  the  warders 
attending  upon  the  chaplain. 

"  Here,  sir." 

And  No.  4,093  marched  meekly  out, looking  the  very  pic- 
ture of  innocence — according  to  a  Botany  Bay  point  of  view. 

"4,112." 

"Here." 

"That's  a  big,  fine  fellow,"  said' Harka way,  as  the  last 
called  stepped  forth. 


A  D  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TRA  LI  A.  27 

"  What  offence  was  he  sent  here  for  ? "  asked  Harvey. 

The  registers  were  searched,  and  the  answer  brought. 

"Robbery  from  the  person  with  great  violence." 

"Humph!"  said  Jefferson,  "it's  rather  a  dangerous 
fellow  to  have  about  one.  1  think  that  we  could  dispense 
with  him." 

No.  4,112  heard  it,  and  he  scowled  at  the  speaker. 
'Did  you  notice  that?  "  said  Jefferson,  eagerly. 
What  ?  " 
His  look." 

'Not  particularly,"  replied  Harkaway. 
It  was  a  familiar  look,   I  thought,"  said   Jefferson, 
reflectively. 

"  How  so  ?  " 

Jefferson  made  no  reply  for  awhile,  but  walked  thought- 
fully away. 

"I  know  that  I  have  seen  that  face  somewhere,"  he 
kept  muttering  to  himself;  "but  where — where?" 

It  was,  however,  small  wonder  that  he  could  not  recall 
the  face. 

Those  men  were  disguised  so  effectually  by  the  prison 
barbers,  and  by  the  convict's  flannel  garb,  that  few  per- 
sons could  have  traced  any  resemblance  to  those  men  as 
they  appeared  before  their  trials. 

4,112  had  worn  his  hair  long  and  bushy,  and  beard  of 
raven  blackness. 

Now,  when  this  man  was  closely  cropped  and  had  his 
beard  and  moustache  shaved  off,  it  will  be  readily  under- 
stood why  he  was  effectually  disguised. 

The  other  convict,  No.  4,093,  walked  after  him. 

"That  big  fellow  doesn't  appear  to  be  altogether  re- 
formed," said  Jefferson,  to  the  chaplain. 

"There  is  a  hidden  devil  in  his  eye,"  added  Dick. 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  the  worthy  chaplain. 

"  I  am  pretty  sure  of  it,"  said  Jefferson. 

"I  will  go  after  him  to  see  what  it  means, "  said  the 
chaplain. 


The  two  convicts  walked  away,  No.  4,112  looking  as 
black  as  thunder. 

His  expression  now  would  have  condemned  him  any 
where. 


2g  JACK  HARKA  WAY  AND  HIS  SON  >S 

No.  4,093  was  more  careful — more  guarded  in  his 
manner. 

His  experience  in  playing  the  "artful  dodge,'  as  he_so 
significantly  termed  it,  had  led  him  to  train  his  expression 
so  as  to  be  all  things  to  all  men. 

Coming  up  with  his  fellow-prisoner,  he  gave  a  sharp 
glance  about  him  to  ascertain  that  they  were  out  of  ear- 
shot, and  then  he  said — 

"Toro,  my  pippin,  you've  made  a  nice  mess  of  it." 

"Bah!" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  showing  your  temper  to  the 
strangers  ?  " 

Toro  stared. 

'  Strangers  ? " 

'  Yes,  those  people. " 

'  Is  it  possible  you  don't  remember  ?  " 

'  What  ?  " 
'Those  faces." 

'  I  don't  see  how  I  can  remember  people  that  I  never 
saw  before  in  all  my  life." 

The  Italian  convict  burst  out  laughing. 

"Well,  well,  Bigamini,"  he  cried,  laughing  still,  "I 
gave  you  credit  for  a  better  memory." 

"  Who  the  deuce  are  they  ?  Why  don't  you  tell  me  at 
once  ? " 

"Don't  you  know  the  name  of  Jack  Harkaway  ?" 

"Who?" 

Had  a  thunderbolt  fallen  at  his  feet,  he  could  not  have 
looked  more  startled. 

Yet,  no  sooner  was  the  name  pronounced,  than  he  re- 
membered all  the  faces  well. 

He  had  not  expected  to  see  any  of  that  party  there — 
indeed,  his  thoughts  had  been  anywhere  but  upon  the 
Harkaways — else  he  might  have  recognised  them. 

You  will  bear  in  mind,  too,  that  he  had  not  seen  the 
Harkaways  so  lately  as  Toro  had. 

"  It  gives  me  quite  a  turn,"  said  Bigamini. 

"Why?" 

"Why!  why,  couldn't  they  make  it  precious  hot  for 
us  both  ?  " 

"Of  course  they  could,"  returned  Toro;  "but  I  think 
they  will  never  know  us.  The  only  course  is  to  avoid 
them,  for  did  they  but  say  half  a  word  to  the  governor 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  39 

about  all  we  have  done  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  we 
should  never  have  half  a  chance  at  a  ticket." 

Number  4,093  pulled  the  wryest  possible  face. 

"Dear,  dear  Toro,"  he  exclaimed,  ready  to  weep. 
"After  all  my  trouble  too." 

Toro  grinned. 

But  his  grin  was  savage,  and  it  made  his  companion 
jump  back. 

"  No  snivelling  here,  you  watering-pot,"  he  said,  "or 

I'll  give  you  something " 

'  Hush  !  " 
'  What  is  it  ?  " 
'  The  chaplain. " 
'  Where  ?  " 
'Behind  us." 

Immediately  the  two  convicts  fell  into  their  old  parts  of 
the  reformed  convicts. 

The  chaplain  approached  them  slowly. 

"My  friends,"  he  said,  gently,  "I  fear  you  have  not 
the  strength  to  wrestle  with  evil  inclinings.  Why  did  you 
leave  so  abruptly  ?  " 

"  He  is  very  sorry  now,  sir,"  said  Number  4,093. 

"Why  did  you  leave?" 

"To  follow  him,"  said  Bigamini ;  "to  help  him  if  I 
could  with  a  word  of  hope  and  comfort.  That,  sir,  was 
my  only  desire." 

The  meekness  with  which  this  was  uttered,  produced 
the  desired  effect  upon  the  good  man. 

He  patted  Number  4,093  encouragingly  upon  the 
shoulder. 

"  You  are  a  good  fellow,"  he  said.  "I  hope  that  your 
reward  may  come  soon." 

And  Number  4,093  shook  his  head  meekly  as  if  depre- 
cating the  compliment. 

"My  brother  in  sin  and  misfortune,"  he  said,  indicating 
Toro  by  a  gesture,  "knew  those  people." 

Toro  gave  a  start. 

"Basta,  basta  !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  alarm. 

But  Bigamini  never  heeded  his  warning. 

"Knew  the  visitors?  "  said  the  chaplain. 

"Yes." 

"No,  no,"  ejaculated  Number  4, 112  ;  "he  is  mistaken, 
sir.  I  do  not  say  that '* 


30  JA  CK  HA RKA  IV A  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

The  chaplain  looked  from  one  to  the  other  inquiringly. 

"  He  does  not  care  to  own  it,  sir,"  said  Number  4,093, 
"but  it's  the  truth.  That  man  was  his  worst  enemy.  He 
has  pursued  him  remorselessly  through  life.  His  great 
riches  have  enabled  him  to  dispose  pretty  much  as  he  liked 
of  his  enemies,  my  unhappy  brother  amongst  the  rest" 

"Never!" 

"It  is  true,  sir." 

The  clergyman  looked  greatly  shocked. 

"  It  is  very  sad,  but  I  will  seek  them,  and  reason  with 
them,  and  perhaps  when  they  know  your  name,  my  good 
friend " 

Toro  gave  a  savage  side  glance  at  Bigamini. 

Yet  Bigamini  did  not  appear  to  be  much  alarmed. 

"You  must  not,  sir,"  said  he  to  the  chaplain  ;  "they 
are  cruel,  and  although  they  would  speak  fairly  to  your 
face,  they  would  be  sure  to  work  against  him  in  secret. " 

"But " 

"  Oh,  sir,  pray  do  not  risk  it  as  an  experiment,  for  you 
would  be  sure  to  ruin  him.  Promise  him,  sir,  pray." 

"Well,  well,  as  that  is  the  case,"  responded  the  reverend 
gentleman,  "I  will  promise." 

"Thanks,  oh,  thanks,  sir.      Heaven  bless  you." 

The  clergyman  turned  away  considerably  affected,  and 
strolled  thoughtfully  out  of  hearing. 

"  What  an  impatient  fellow  you  are,"  said  Bigamini. 

"You  alarmed  me." 

"But  there  was  no  other  explanation  for  it,  don't  you 
see  ?  He's  soft  on  certain  questions,  but  the  parson  isn't 
altogether  a  fool." 

"  Do  you  think  you  may  rely  upon  his  silence? " 

"Certain." 

Now  they  came  to  the  boundary  of  the  exercise  ground, 
which  adjoined  the  road,  and  just  as  they  arrived  here, 
they  were  greeted  by  the  deep  baying  of  dogs. 

A  moment  more  and  two  men  of  colour  came  past,  each 
holding  a  pair  of  strong  and  fierce-looking  blood-hounds. 

"  Fine  dogs,  mister,"  said  Bigamini. 

"Very  fine,"  responded  one  of  the  darkeys. 

"They  hunt  the  niggers  with  them  across  the  Atlantic," 
said  Toro,  brutally. 

One  of  the  darkeys,  who  was  once  known  as  Julius 
Caesar  Augustus  Hannibal  Jex,  and  who  curiously  enough 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  3 1 

was  introduced  to  these  pages  on  a  rumpus  with  the  con- 
vict Number  4,112,  turned  sharply  upon  the  speaker. 

"  Mind  they  ain't  put  on  your  trail,  mister  gaol-bird," 
he  said,  viciously  ;  "they  mightn't  find  a  convict's  flesh 
as  dainty  as  a  nigger's,  but  I'se  blessed  if  dey  wouldn't 
gnaw  proper." 

Toro  made  a  savage  retort,  and  would  have  committed 
himself  imprudently  had  not  Bigamini  taken  him  by  the 
arm,  and  dragged  him  away. 

"  Don't  be  quite  so  familiar,   Bigamini,"  growled  Toro. 

"Hush,  don't  you  see? " 

Toro  looked  anxiously  about  him  at  this. 

"  What,  the  guard  coming  ?  " 

"No." 

"What  then?" 

"  Don't  you  recognise  those  two  niggers  ?  " 

"No — yes,  of  course,  they  must  be  Harkaway's  black 
devils  ;  I  shouldn't  have  remembered  them,  Niggers  and 
babies  always  appear  exactly  alike  to  me." 

He  turned  round  to  look  at  the  black  men  Sunday  and 
Monday,  for  of  course  it  was  our  faithful  old  friends  whom 
the  convicts  had  recognised,  and  he  saw  that  Sunday  was 
pointing  him  out  to  his  companion. 

"Come  away,  Bigamini,"  exclaimed  Toro,  anxiously. 
"  We  are  recognised  by  those  devils.  Come  along." 

"I  don't  think  so." 

"Don't  you  ?  Look  back  ;  see,  they  are  pointing  to  us 
still." 

They  were  too. 

The  pair  of  darkeys  had  not  been  able  to  fathom  the 
mysteriously  familiar  appearance  of  the  convicts,  but  they 
were  getting  upon  the  scent. 

"  Confound  them,"  ejaculated  Toro,  impetuously.  "  I 
should  like  to  see  them " 

"I  know,"  interrupted  Bigamini,  impatiently.  "But 
don't  waste  time  in  curses.  This  is  the  moment  for  action 
not  words." 

It  was  in  truth  a  serious  job  for  the  convicts,  for  reasons 
that  the  reader  can  not  fail  to  appreciate. 

"  Something  must  be  done,  and  that  promptly  too." 

"True,  for  if  they  have  not  recognised  us  to-day,  they 
will,  and  once  let  all  the  truth  be  known,  you  may  look 
to  the  full  term  of  your  sentence  as  a  certainty." 


32  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"  Yes,  and  fresh  warrants  to  be  handed  to  you  the  day 
you  step  out  of  prison." 

Harkaway,  or  any  of  his  party,  knew  many  unpleasant 
little  incidents  connected  with  the  careers  of  Number 
4,093  and  Number  4,112,  which  would  show  them  up  in 
so  much  worse  light  than  could  have  been  supposed. 

If  they  remained  here,  they  risked  discovery  daily. 

Harkaway  would  be  certain  to  return  to  the  place  for 
the  domestics  and  labouring  men  that  he  was  to  take  upon 
the  chaplain's  recommendation  to  his  new  settlement  up 
the  country. 

"Bigamini,"  exclaimed  Toro,  stopping  suddenly,  "we 
must  bolt." 

Number  4,093  grinned. 

"When?" 

"To-night.  I  don't  say  it  will  be  easy;  all  I  say  is 
that  it  will  have  to  be  done.  If  we  are  recognised,  we 
are  lost.  Better  to  risk  all  and  bolt." 

"Very  good,"  answered  Number  4,093.    "I'm  agreed." 

"When  you  hear  the  bell  toll  two,"  said  Toro,  "  glide 
to  the  dormitory  window  ;  you  will  find  it  open." 

"Open?" 

Toro  nodded. 

"It  is  always  barred." 

"  It  will  not  be  to-night,  for  I  have  removed  the  screws 
of  the  bar.  It  comes  out  bodily,  you  see,"  he  added, 
significantly,  "  and  may  be  handy  in  case  of  anyone  get- 
ting in  our  way." 

Bigamini  grew  slightly  alarmed. 

"No  violence,"  he  said. 

"  I  shall  be  prudent ;  only  let  'em  beware  of  stopping 
us,  that's  all." 

The  look  of  fierce  menace  in  his  face  made  Bigamini 
tremble,  and  for  a  moment  he  half  regretted  being  con- 
cerned in  this  job. 

However,  it  is  certain  that  he  feared  Toro  more  than 
anything  or  anyone  else. 

He  dared  not  retreat. 


All  was  silent  in  the  convict  dormitory. 


ADVENTURES  ttf  AUSTRALIA. 


33 


At  either  end  of  the  long  chamber  in  which  the  convicts 
slept  were  warders  dozing  in  their  chairs. 

But  it  was  cat-like  sleep,  and  at  their  right  hands,  were 
bell-pulls,  the  lightest  touch  of  which  would  alarm  the 
whole  settlement. 

No  easy  matter  therefore  for  a  prisoner  to  escape. 

The  deep-toned  bell  of  the  prison  tolled  two  sonorous 
notes. 

A  faint  rustling  might  be  heard  in  the  dormitory,  and 
two  dark  forms  glided  like  phantoms  to  the  window. 

The  shutter  was  barred  heavily,  and  upon  the  right 
the  bar  was  fixed  to  the  staples  by  a  padlock,  of  which 
each  warder  kept  a  key. 

But  the  padlock  and  the  staples  were  all  alike  useless. 

The  bar  came  away  bodily. 

The  window  was  pushed  gently  open,  and  each  of  the 
two  men  threw  a  leg  over  prior  to  dropping  down. 

Suddenly  a  sound  was  heard,  which  startled  them  not 
a  little. 

The  tramping  of  military  men. 

"  Hush ! " 

"What  now?" 

"They  are  going  to  relieve  guard." 

"Quiet." 

The  marching  of  the  soldiers  grew  nearer  and  neaier, 
until  it  ended  beneath  the  window. 

Immediately  below  them  was  a  sentry-box,  and  the 
sentinel  there  was  to  be  removed. 

The  challenge  of  .the  officer  of  the  watch  was  heard 
distinctly. 

The  guard  was  changed. 

The  soldiers  marched  off,  and  the  regular  tramping  soon 
died  away  in  the  distance. 

"  Now's  our  chance  ;  for  life  or  death,"  cried  Toro. 

"Quickly,"  said  the  other,  looking  pale,  and  trembling 
with  fear. 


34  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE  FLIGHT — THE  SENTRY  BAGGED— ALARMING  SOUNDS HUNTED 

BY  BLOOD-HOUNDS. 

Now  the  spot  where  the  two  convicts  escaped  from  the 
window  was  close  over  the  sentry-box. 

Toro  being  less  agile  than  his  companion,  he  dropped 
fairly  upon  the  top  of  the  box,  and  the  weight  of  his  huge 
body  made  it  sway  forward. 

Judge  then  of  the  amazement  of  the  sentry  who  had 
only  just  been  placed  there. 

The  tramp  of  the  patrol  was  just  dying  in  the  distance, 
when  down  flopped  a  man  like  magic  before  his  box,  and 
almost  at  the  same  instant  the  sentry  received  a  shock, 
and  the  box  was  toppled  over. 

Down  it  fell  with  a  crash,  trapping  the  sentry  in  a  way 
that  was  comical  in  the  extreme,  or  it  would  have  been 
had  it  been  a  trifle  less  alarming. 

Toro  rolled  upon  the  ground,  and  Bigamini  looked  half 
dead  with  fright 

"Oh,  golly,"  he  moaned  ;   "it's  all  up." 

Toro  scrambled  up. 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,"  he  said,  savagely.  "  He's  safe.  I'm 
more  damaged  than  anyone,  and  I  can  walk,  you  see." 

"  Look." 

"Where?" 

"His  gun." 

Bigamini  pointed  to  the  barrel  of  the  sentry's  musket, 
which  was  projected  beneath  the  edge  of  the  sentry-box, 
and  as  it  was  moving  backwards  and  forwards,  there  wa» 
every  reason  to  suppose  that  the  sentinel,  like  themselves, 
was  a  good  deal  more  frightened  than  hurt 

"  Hush  ! "  exclaimed  Toro,  warningly,  "  we  must  Wve 
that  or  his  life. " 

"The  gun?" 

"Yes." 

"Gently  does  it,"  said  Bigamini. 

Toro  stooped,  and  made  a  grab  at  the  barrel  of  the  gun. 

But  just  as  he  got  hold  of  it,  it  rattled  in  his  grasp,  and 
a  loud  explosion  followed. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


35 


It  had  gone  off ! 

The  fright  of  the  two  convicts  at  this  was  something 
great. 

During  the  momentary  stillness  that  reigned  immedi- 
ately after  the  explosion,  they  looked  about  them  eagerly, 
expecting  to  be  pounced  upon  at  once. 

But  an  alarm  is  not  always  so  quickly  taken. 

It  required  some  few  minutes  for  the  prison  authorities 
to  realise  the  full  significance  of  the  noise. 

But  when  they  did  get  some  insight  into  the  events 
which  had  occurred,  there  was  a  general  alarm  created. 

Then  the  alarm-bell  was  rung. 

There  were  guns  firing,  and  a  general  excitement,  while 
an  elaborate  search  was  made,  for  they  could  not  at  once 
discover  whence  the  mischief  came. 

Thus  it  fell  out  that  before  they  were  upon  the  scent, 
the  fugitive  convicts,  Numbers,  4,093  and  4,112,  were  far 
off. 

"We  must  keep  to  the  river,"  said  Bigamini,  "  and  we 
are  saved." 

"Don't  be  too  sanguine  as  yet,"  responded  Toro. 

"Do  you  think  we  shall  be  taken?"  demanded  Big- 
amini, in  trembling  accents. 

"Yes." 

"  Oh  ! " 

"Silence,  fool!"  ejaculated  the  Italian,  savagely. 
"  Don't  worry  me.  If  you  do  any  thing  that  may  endanger 
us,  I  shall  think  nothing  of  putting  you  out  of  the  way." 

"Ugh!" 

Bigamini  knew  his  companion  of  old. 

He  knew  too  well  that  Toro  was  not  the  man  to  hesitate, 
even  at  murder. 

He  would  look  upon  "removing"  him — Bigamini— 
from  his  path  with  as  much  coolness  as  disposing  of  an 
enemy. 

This  was  not  a  pleasant  companion,  truly. 

*  *  #  *  *  * 

"This  way.     Follow  me  closely,"  exclaimed  Toro. 

"Consider  me  there,"  responded  Bigamini. 

By  this  time  the  pursuit  had  grown  unpleasantly  hot, 
and  they  speedily  realised  one  important  fact. 

They  must  throw  the  pursuers  off  the  track  before  day- 
break, or  they  would  be  lost. 


36  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

Once  let  them  get  an  idea  of  their  route  and  good-bye 
to  their  chance  of  safety. 

The  night  was  dark,  and  progress  difficult. 

But  Toro  consoled  himself  for  this  on  reflecting  that  it 
made  the  pursuit  equally  difficult. 

Their  only  object  was  to  gain  the  river. 

Once  there,  they  kept  along  as  close  to  the  bank  as 
they  could. 

Toro  led,  and  he  went  the  pace  in  his  dashing,  fearless 
way,  while  Bigamini  followed  him  as  closely  as  his  fears 
would  allow  him,  for  the  danger  of  falling  into  the  river 
was  by  no  means  inconsiderable. 

Several  miles  of  ground  were  covered  in  this  way,  until 
Toro,  who  led  some  distance  ahead  of  his  squeamish 
comrade,  was  suddenly  brought  to  a  standstill  by  a  cry  of 
pain  and  terror  proceeding  from  Bigamini. 

"Hold  your  noise,  you  idiot !  "  he  exclaimed,  savagely. 
"  Do  you  want  to  bring  them  down  upon  us  ?  " 
'Oho!" 

'  Where  are  you  ? " 
'Here." 
How  far  ? " 

'Come  and  lend    us  a  hand,  like  a  good  pal.      I've 
stuck  in  an  'ole,  and  damaged  one  of  my  legs,  I  think." 

A  fresh  cry  of  pain,  louder  even  than  the  first,  brought 
the  Italian  up  to  him  with  a  run. 

He  found  that  Bigamini  had  slipped  upon  the  bank, 
where  there  was  a  sudden  and  steep  declivity,  and  that 
although  a  good  deal  more  frightened  than  hurt,  yet  he 
had  really  sustained  some  damage. 

"Do  you  think  you  have  broken  your  leg?"  demanded 
Toro,  stretching  over  to  him. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Bigamini,  eagerly,  for  he  thought  to 
elicit  a  word  of  sympathy  from  his  boorish  comrade, 
[f  that's  the  case,  you  are  no  good  for  this  job." 

"  Wuss  luck  !  "  groaned  the  convict,  piteously. 

'•'  Then  I'll  tell  you  what  I  had  better  do  for  you." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Bigamini,  eagerly,  "what,  old 
pal  ?  " 

"  I  had  better  drop  you  into  the  water.  I  don't  want 
you  left  there  howling,  for  you'll  put  them  upon  the 
scent ;  and  I  don't  want  that.  So  here  you  go  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  river." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  VSTRALIA.  3  7 

' '  Don't  be  a  brute, "  cried  the  convict,  awfulljr 
frightened  at  this  ;  "  lend  us  a  hand  and  pull  me  up." 

Toro  stretched  out  and  succeeded  in  dragging  his  com- 
panion up  on  to  terra  firma. 

The  march  was  resumed  ;  Bigamini  being  only  a  slight 
limp  the  worse  for  his  fall,  until  Toro  decided  to  rest  for 
the  night. 

"We  shall  be  fresher  after  a  little  sleep,"  said  he,  "  and 

they'll  never  get  as  far  as  here  to-night." 

****** 

Morning  dawned  and  found  the  two  escaped  convicts 
fast  asleep  upon  their  backs,  with  the  early  sun  pouring 
its  fiery  rays  on  to  their  faces. 

But  they  were  so  thoroughly  done  up  by  their  exertions 
of  the  previous  day,  that  they  slept  like  tops  notwith- 
standing. 

After  a  certain  time  Toro  opened  his  eyes. 

He  stared  about  him,  and  then  he  started  as  a  distant 
sound  struck  on  his  ear. 

Evidently  the  sounds  alarmed  him. 

At  first  he  sat  upright  and  listened  intently,  and  then 
down  he  stretched  upon  the  ground  and  listened  with  his 
ear  to  the  earth. 

An  expression  of  alarm  flitted  across  his  countenance. 

Yet  we  must  give  him  the  credit  to  acknowledge  that 
it  was  only  momentary,  and  was  speedily  replaced  by  a 
look  of  settled  resolution. 

"Bigamini  !  "  he  exclaimed,  kicking  his  companion  with 
a  very  unpleasant  vigour. 

"  Hullo  !  " 

"Get  up." 

"Eh  !  any  thing  wrong?  " 

"Yes,"  answered  Toro,  sharply;  "very  wrong  in- 
deed." 

His  manner  helped  as  much  as  the  kick  to  arouse  his 
companion. 

"What  can  it  be,  Toro?"  he  exclaimed,  an  uneasy 
feeling  stealing  over  him. 

"Listen,"  was  Toro's  reply. 

Bigamini  obeyed,  and  when  he  caught  the  sound  that 
had  aroused  Toro  so  thoroughly,  he  turned  pale. 

"  It's  dogs  1  " 

Toro  nodded. 


38  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"Yes." 

"Hounds  !  " 

"That's  it,"  answered  Toro  in  the  same  manner. 
"Bloodhounds,  and  on  our  track,  too.  What  do  you 
think  of  that,  Bigamini  ?  " 

The  convict's  lips  grew  livid  with  fear. 

"Oh,  Toro,  Toro,"  he  faltered,  "you  are  never  going 
to  give  in.  You  won't  bottle  up." 

"What?" 

' '  Don't  be  violent.  I  say  you  will  fight  it  out,  won't 
you  ?  You  ain't  a-going  to  cry  peccavi  yet  awhile,  are 
you  ? " 

"I  am  going  to  kill  you,  perhaps,"  answered  Toro,  in 
a  voice  of  calm,  which  thrilled  his  companion  most  un- 
pleasantly. 

"Oho!" 

"Get  up." 

"I  will,  I  will,"  shrieked  Bigamini,  springing  to  his 
feet  as  Toro  helped  him  with  a  kick. 

"  Follow  me." 

"Yes,  yes." 

They  made  their  way  on  as  fast  as  they  could,  but  at 
every  stride  the  deep  baying  of  the  hounds  sounded 
nearer  and  nearer. 

They  were  gaining  upon  the  fugitives  rapidly. 

It  was  serious  now. 

The  two  convicts  struggled  on  at  a  desperate  rate. 

Yet  what  could  they  do  in  a  race  with  those  fierce, 
four-footed  beasts  ? 

"They  will  tear  us  piecemeal,"  exclaimed  Bigamini, 
"if  once  they  come  up  with  us." 

"There's  no  fear  of  that,"  answered  Toro;  "they  are 
only  put  on  the  track  to  guide  our  pursuers  by  their  keen 
scent.  On  with  you." 

"Oh!" 

"Cur  that  you  are  ;  the  dogs  are  held  in." 

Bigamini  looked  round  over  his  shoulder  and  gave  a 
cry,  or  rather  a  gasp,  of  fright. 

"Look." 

Toro  turned  sharply  round,  and  there,  a  hundred  yards 
behind  them,  were  four  bloodhounds  bounding  along  with 
their  heads  to  the  ground. 

They  were  alone. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


39 


Not  a  human  soul  in  sight. 

' '  They  have  followed  the  trail, "  said  Toro  rather  thickly, 
"and  the  keepers  have  not  been  able  to  keep  up." 

"  We  are  lost  then,"  ejaculated  Bigamini. 

"No,  no,"  exclaimed  Toro,    "not  lost,  though  would 
to  goodness  we  had  a  weapon  each." 

****** 

They  looked  anxiously  about  them. 
Nearer  and  nearer  grew  the  baying  of  the  dogs. 
Nearer  and  nearer  every  minute  they  approached. 
Minutes  were  precious  now  indeed. 
Minutes — aye,  seconds. 

"It's  all  over  with  this  poor  child,"  cried  Bigamini,  in 
despair. 

'  Not  yet,"  exclaimed  Toro  ;  "  there's  the  river." 
'  The  river  ?  " 
'  Aye  ;  can  you  swim  ?  " 
'  Like  a  stone." 

'  No  matter.     Jump  in,  I'll  help  you  across." 
'Ugh!" 

It  was  a  sad   alternative,  but  Bigamini  was  a  bit   of 
philosopher. 

"Better  be  drowned  than  made  into  dogs' meat,''  he 
groaned. 

And  in  he  plunged. 

As  they  struck  the  water,  the  four  bloodhounds   ran 
sniffing  up  to  the  bank  of  the  river. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

OUT   OF  DANGER ON   THE  MARCH A  TYRANT  AND    HIS   VICTIM — 

THE    BUSHRANGERS — CONGENIAL   SPIRITS — CAPTAIN    MORGAN. 

TORO  rose  to  the  surface  and  looked  about  him. 

Bigamini  was  splashing  and  floundering  about,  trying 
to  cry  out  in  fright,  but  half  choked  with  the  water  he 
had  swallowed. 

"Strike  out." 

Bigamini  heard  it,  and  he  obeyed. 

Yes,  he  obeyed  it  too  much  ;  for  he  struck  out  at  such 
a  rate  that  down  he  went. 


40  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOWS 

"Fool !  "  cried  Toro. 

The  bloodhounds  stood  sniffing  about  the  bank  of  the 
river,  looking  wistfully  at  their  destined  prey,  but  they 
did  not  like  taking  the  water. 

They  wanted  their  masters  there  to  encourage  them. 

The  hounds  had  gained  upon  them,  solely  because  they 
had  got  free  from  the  guidance  of  their  masters  ;  yet  now, 
they  were  useless  in  the  absence  of  their  masters. 

Toro,  who  was  pretty  well  versed  in  the  nature  of  thesj 
fierce  brutes,  saw  it  all,  and  his  courage  arose. 

With  one  hand  upon  Bigamini's  head — he  held  him  by 
the  hair — he  managed  to  swim  vigorously  for  the  oppo- 
site bank  of  the  river. 

The  wretched  Bigamini  was  in  an  awful  fright. 

He  struggled  and  sought  to  clutch  at  his  compan- 
ion, and  finally  securing  a  hold,  he  dragged  him  under, 
too. 

Toro  was  a  veteran  swimmer  and  he  knew  exactly  the 
danger  he  ran. 

What  was  better,  he  knew  how  to  avoid  it.  He  fought 
Bigamini  off  promptly,  and  once  more  secured  a  hold 
upon  his  head. 

Then  off  for  shore. 

A  few  more  strokes  and  he  scrambled  up  the  bank, 
dragging  Bigamini  after  him. 

Now  Bigamini  was  rather  more  dead  than  alive,  and  it 
wanted  one  or  two  gentle  taps  from  his  companion's 
heavy  hand  to  bring  him  to  himself. 

"You  idiot !  "  exclaimed  Toro,  "you  nearly  succeeded 
in  drowning  me  as  well  as  yourself." 

Smack  ! 

"Ohoo  !  "  yelled  Bigamini,  piteously. 

"Take  that." 

"I've  got  it,"  roared  Bigamini,  rubbing  the  side  of  his 
head. 

'Take  that  too — you  imbecile — and  that !  " 

"That'll  do— that'll  do  !  "  cried  Bigamini !  "  give  it  to 
somebody  that  wants  it ;  drop  it ;  I'm  black  and  blue." 

"You  wanted  to  drown  me,"  exclaimed  his  tyrant, 
"  after  saving  your  life." 

"  No — no — ohoo  !  " 

' '  That'll  teach  you  to  keep  cool  and  keep  your  head 
above  water." 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  41 

Bigamini  did  his  best  to  dodge  his  tormentor  ;  but  he 
got  a  cuff  between  each  word. 

"  You  won't  give  much  chance,"  he  said  weeping,  "  you 
ill-use  me  so." 

'  Quiet. " 

'After  all  I've  done  for  you." 

'  You  ? " 

•"Yes." 

'Why,  you " 

The  rest  of  his  remonstrances  were  drowned  in  a  succes- 
sion of  blows,  which  Bigamini  took  without  dodging,  as  he 
gave  up  any  opposition  for  a  bad  job,  and  when  the  Italian 
was  tired  of  smacking  and  cuffing,  he  rested,  and  so  did 
his  wretched  companion. 

There  is  an  end  to  every  thing,  however,  and  as  Toro 
grew  fatigued,  Bigamini  lay  back  and  groaned  himself  off 
into  a  gentle  doze. 

"Get  up." 

"  Don't — ohoo  !  " 

"Get  up,  I  say  !  "  thundered  Toro,  "  if  you  go  to  sleep 
in  your  wet  clothes,  you'll  get  ague  and  rheumatism,  and 
all  sorts  of  complaints." 

"I  don't  care,"  returned  Bigamini.  "I'd  sooner  go  to 
sleep  ;  I'm  done  brown." 

Toro's  only  notice  of  this  touching  appeal  was  a  kick — 
but  oh  !  such  a  kick  !  It  lifted  Bigamini  fairly  off  the 
ground. 

He  gave  a  yell,  and  started  off  at  a  run. 

The  Italian  strode  after  him,  only  onceturningroundto 
shake  his  clenched  fist  at  the  four  bloodhounds  that  stood 
regarding  their  fleeting  prey  with  wistful  eyes. 

"We've  done  you,"  he  exclaimed,  exultingly,  "done 
you,  you  beasts." 

Bigamini  limped  along  until  Toro  drew  nearer  and  ad- 
ministered another  gentle  reminder. 

"Oho,"  yelled  the  escaped  convict;  "don't  I  wish  I 
was  back  again  in  quad  neither,  wuss  luck,  you  brute." 

"What?" 

"Oh,  don't.  Why,  quad  was  a  Paradise  compared  with 
this ;  they  didn't  knock  your  blessed  chump  up  every 
moment." 

"I'm  glad  you  enjoyed  it,"  said  Toro,  with  a  grim 
smile. 


42  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"So  I  did,  so  I  did,"  persisted  Bigamini ;  "the  prog 
was  good,  though  the  parson  did  dose  you  with  his  ser- 
mings." 

"And  the  crank?" 

Bigamini  pulled  rather  a  long  face. 

"Well,  the  crank  did  give  you  '  what  for,  Lady  Jane?  ' 
pretty  much,  but  I  didn't  have  much  of  that." 

"Hark  you,  Bigamini,"  said  his  companion,  fiercely, 
"sooner  than  be  back  there,  I  would  lay  my  bones  at  the 
bottom  of  that  river." 

"  Would  you  ?  Then  all  I  can  say  is  as  I  don't  approve 
of  your  taste." 

"Perhaps  not,  but  I'd  sooner  any  thing — yes,  sooner  be 
worried  by  those  fierce  bloodhounds,  sooner,  far  sooner, 
be  torn  piecemeal  than  find  myself  put  to  the  crank  and 
to  their  labour,  that  breaks  the  heart  in  a  man." 

"You  needn't  have  done  it  unless  you  pleased." 

"And  what  would  have  been  the  alternative?  The 
lash  would  have  been  the  alternative.  I  know  it  to  my 
cost" 

And  as  he  spoke,  the  burly  convict  shuddered,  showing 

how  heavily  his  punishment  had  sat  upon  him. 

*****  * 

At  noon  they  rested. 

Had  they  sat  down  to  rest  a  mile  before  they  did,  they 
would  have  been  lost. 

The  soldiers  in  pursuit  came  up  within  that  distance  oj 
the  fugitives. 

"Are  you  dry  ?  " 

"Dry,"  echoed  Bigamini ;  "dry  ain't  the  word,  old 
pal.  I'm  just  dying  of  thirst." 

"  Bah  !  I  don't  mean  that." 

"I  do,  though.  I'd  give  all  my  fortune  for  one  suck 
at  a  pewter  quart  of  humble,  and  I'd  bet  that  there 
wouldn't  be  much  left  in  it  when  I  took  it  away." 

"I  mean,  are  your  clothes  dry  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  dry  as  I  am,  quite,"  said  Bigamini. 

''  Now  then,  say,  do  you  believe  I  was  right  in  forcing 
you  to  keep  up  ? " 

Bigamini  pulled  a  woefully  long   face. 

"  Perhaps,  but  shall  we  give  it  up  and  rest  here  for  a 
bit  ?  " 

"If  you  like." 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


43 


He  did  like. 

Down  he  dropped  upon  the  ground,  and  before  Toro 
had  settled  himself  comfortably  upon  the  turf  beside  him, 
Bigamini  was  snoring. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

"He's  able  to  sleep  anywhere,"  muttered  the  Italian  to 
himself,  "  and  that  ought,  if  all  I  have  heard  be  true,  show 
a  clear  conscience.  '  He  who  sleeps,  dines,'  the  French 
proverb  says,  but,  maladetta  1 1  can't  sleep  on  an  empty 
stomach,  however  hard  I  try.  Ha  !  what's  that?  " 

His  heart  leaped  to  his  mouth. 

Suddenly,  from  behind  a  tree,  appeared  three  armed 
men. 

Fierce,  rough-looking  fellows,  dressed  in  red  flannel 
tunics,  high  jack-boots,  and  fur  caps. 

Each  carried  a  rifle,  and  as  they  came  up,  they  pre- 
sented their  weapons  at  the  two  escaped  convicts. 

"Lost!" 

Such  was  Toro's  involuntary  cry. 

But  he  rather  overrated  the  danger  for  once. 

"Who  are  you?  " 

Toro  was  too  amazed  to  reply  for  a  moment. 

The  speaker  repeated  his  question  sharply. 

"Answer  ;  do  you  hear?  Answer,  or  I'll  blow  you  to 
smithereens." 

' '  Travellers  who  have  lost  their  way. " 

"  Humph  !  Lost  your  way  by  a  hundred  miles  or  so,  1 
suppose. " 

"Yes." 

The  three  men  burst  out  laughing  simultaneously  at  this. 

"  We  know  the  sort  of  travellers  that  you  are,"  remarked 
one  of  them,  significantly. 

"You've  got  on  the  uniform  of  the  regiment." 

"Yes,"  added  another  with  a  laugh;  "honest,  be- 
nighted travellers. " 

Toro  gave  himself  up  for  lost  at  the  word. 

The  convict  garb  put  aside  all  chance  of  throwing  dust 
in  their  eyes. 

"You  can  shoot  us  down  if  you  like,"  said  he,  dog- 
gedly, "  for  we  don't  mean  to  yield." 

"Oh,  you  don't?" 

"No." 

"Call  the  captain, "said  one  of  the  new-comers. 


44  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

Another  of  them  blew  a  shrill  blast  upon  a  small  horn 
which  he  carried  at  his  belt,  and  almost  before  the  echoes 
had  died  away,  it  was  answered  from  the  depths  of  the 
adjacent  forest 
"Blow  again." 

The  answering  call  was  sent,  and  in  almost  less  time 
than  it  takes  to  chronicle  the  fact,  two  men  came  running 
up,  closely  followed  by  a  black  boy. 

One  of  the  men  was  habited  the  same  as  the  first  three 
in  every  particular. 

The  other's  dress  was  almost  identical  with  the  rest, 
only  he  wore  a  hat  instead  of  the  fur  cap,  and  by  his  side 
he  carried  a  long  sword  in  a  metal  sheath. 

The  black  boy's  dress  calls  for  little  description,  there 
was  so  little  of  it. 

You  have  all  heard  of  the  savage  king  whose  toilet  for 
state  ceremonials  consisted  of  a  cocked  hat  and  a  pair  of 
spurs. 

Well,  this  young  savage's  dress  consisted  of  rather 
less. 

His  whole  wardrobe  consisted  of  a  cotten  pocket-hand- 
kerchief tied  round  his  loins. 

He  was  a  bright-looking,  intelligent  young  fellow  for 
his  race,  of  a  light  and  lissom  build  that  seemed  to  indi- 
cate he  could  run  like  a  greyhound  and  never  tire. 

"What  larkth,"  cried  the  boy,  grinning  from  ear  to  ear 
and  showing  a  set  of  ivories  that  would  have  excited  the 
envy  of  a  London  dentist.  "Yah,  yah  f " 

"What  have  you  got  here,  Marchant  ? "  demanded  the 
man  in  the  hat,  sharply,  his  manner  indicating  a  superior- 
ity to  his  companions. 

"  A  couple  of  innocent,  benighted  travellers,"  answered 
the  man  addressed  as  Marchant,  with  a  gruff  laugh. 
"Escaped  convicts ! " 
"Yes." 
"Humph!" 

Toro  was  on  his  feet  by  now,  and  a  sidelong  kick 
brought  Bigamini  up  beside  him,  blinking  and  winking 
like  an  owl  in  daylight 

"  Get  up  and  lend  a  hand,"  he  said  quickly.      "  They're 
down  upon  us,  and  we  are  lost,   but  we  will  fight  for  it." 
Bigamini  said  nothing. 
"  Fight  for  what  ?  "  demanded  the  man  in  the  hat 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  45 

"Before  you  shall  take  us  back  to  prison,"  retorted 
Toro,  fiercely. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha!"  laughed  the  stranger,  mockingly. 
"  Catch  any  of  us  going  near  to  prison.  No,  no  ;  we  are 
too  wide  awake  for  that. " 

Bigamini  rubbed  his  eyes  like  one  of  those  fishermen 
in  the  ' '  Arabian  Nights. " 

' '  Why,  don't  you  see  who  they  are  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"No,  not  I." 

"  It  is  plain  as  a  pikestaff, "  answered  Bigamini ;  "they 
are  Australian  bushrangers." 

Toro  stared  again. 

"Yes,  bushrangers.  Look  you,  friends,  we  are  starv- 
ing. Give  us  a  bit  of  food,  bread,  no  matter  what,  and  a 
drink,  and  you  may  claim  of  us  what  you  will." 

"Give  them  food,  captain  !"  demanded  one  of  the 
party. 

The  chief  nodded. 

"You  shall  tell  me  in  return  what  you  were  condemned 
for  to  transportation." 

"Willingly,"  replied  Toro  :   "I  was  innocent." 

"So  was  I,"  added  Bigamini,  quickly;  "innocent  as  a 
sucking  lamb. " 

The  chief  of  the  bushrangers  turned  to  his  men,  and 
quickly  said — 

"  If  I  catch  them  lying  to  me,  I  will  nod  my  head  as  a 
signal  for  you  to  shoot  them  both  through  the  heart. " 

"  Now,"  continued  the  chief  of  the  bushrangers,  "  let  me 
know  why  you  are  here  and  for  what  crime  committed." 

"  I  am  not  guilty  of  the  crime  I  was  punished  for  ;  I 
am  innocent  of  that" 

"  So  I  thought,"  said  the  chief;  "I  never  met  a  guilty 
man  yet." 

"  Dat's  right,"  said  the  black  boy,  with  a  guffaw, 
"  dese  am  lily-white  angels,  yah  1  yah  1 " 

"Hold  your  croakings,  you  black  devil,"  thundered 
Toro,  fiercely,  "  or  I'll  cut  you  in  two." 

The  young  darkey  put  his  hands  to  his  nose,  and  took  a 
deliberate  sight,  while  he  wagged  his  woolly  head  back- 
wards and  forwards  in  the  most  aggravating  way  im- 
aginable. 

"  Oh,  you  big  baby.     Catch  Tinker  first" 

"What?" 


46  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"  No  catchee,  no  habee.     Yah,  yah  !  " 

"Keep  quiet,  Tinker, "exclaimed the  bushranger  chief; 
"  and  you  are  wrong  to  heed  him — although,  I  must  say, 
your  confession  of  innocence  is  more  than  an  excuse  for 
a  nigger — why,  it's  enough  to  make  a  cat  laugh." 

"Your  doubts  are  natural,  perhaps, "  said  the  Italian 
convict,  "but  although  I  have  a  pretty  long  string  of  sins 
to  answer  for,  lying  was  never  one  of  them." 

The  chief  laughed. 

"Well  answered,"  he  said;  "but  not  to  waste  time, 
what  were  you  convicted  for  ? " 

"Robbery.     But  I  was  innocent." 

"Of  course." 

' '  I  was,  I  swear  it.  But  my  whole  life  was  raked  up. 
Those  police  of  yours  are  prying  wretches — they  turn 
a  man  inside  out.  They  learned  things  of  my  past  life 
which  I  had  actually  forgotten  myself  in  the  lapse  of 
years,  and  when  it  was  discovered  that  I  had  been  leader 
of  a  notorious  band  of  Italian  brigands,  I  was  condemned 
almost  unheard  upon  the  charge  of  highway  robbery.  I 
acknowledge  to  you  that  I  have  committed  acts  a  hun- 
dred times  worse  than  that  for  which  I  was  accused, 
tried,  and  convicted,  so  I  have  no  reason  to  protest  in 
my  innocence  to  you  if  it  were  not  true." 

"Very  strange  luck,"  said  the  bushranger,  meditat- 
ingly ;  "you  carry  on  for  years  with  impunity,  and 
finally  get  nobbled  for  a  job  you  have  never  done." 

"  Had  I  got  into  that  tittle  trouble  in  my  own  country," 
said  Toro,  bitterly,  "I  should  have  got  off  easily." 

"How?" 

"By  what  you  call  ' squaring '  the  police,"  was  the 
reply. 

"Oh!"  said  the  bushranger,  "the  police  in  England 
are  a  brutal,  hard-fisted  set  of  men. " 

"  Hard  indeed  !  "  growled  Toro  ;  "  the  two  that  took 
me  nearly  strangled  me  with  their  brutal  knuckles  that 
dug  into  my  throat — I  had  to  march  or  choke." 

The  bystanders  laughed  heartily  at  this. 

"Yes,''  said  Bigamini,  "they  can  run  'em  in.  Oh, 
my  !  " 

"  And  what  did  you  do  ? " 

"Oh,  I  married  a  little  too  much,"  returned  Bigamini, 
making  a  very  long  face. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US TRALIA.  47 

"Bigamy?" 

"That's  what  they  called  it." 

"  How  many  wives  did  you  have?  " 

"Only  four." 

"And  you  got  punished  for  that!"  exclaimed  the 
bushranger  chief ;  "  why,  you  should  have  been  rewarded 
by  a  gold  medal.  There's  not  a  second  man  in  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland  that  would  dare  tackle  four  wives — 
why,  you  are  a  hero. " 

"  Let's  give  a  cheer,  captain,"  said  one  of  the  men, 
"  for  the  man  with  four  wives." 

"Hip,  hip,  hip,  hurrah  !  " 

Bigamini  stood  before  them  bowing  modestly,  while 
they  were  yelling  with  laughter. 

"We  met  here  by  accident,"  said  Toro,  "but  we  had 
been  old  comrades  in  Italy. " 

"Indeed  !     Was  he  a  brigand  too  there ? " 

Bigamini  looked  anxiously  about  him. 

"  No — no — no  !  " 

"Yes,  he  was.  He  was  attached  to  our  band  as  a  spy, 
but  at  last  he  was  suspected  of  playing  fast  and  loose." 

"How?" 

"Of  being  in  the  pay  of  Jack  Harkaway." 

The  chief  of  the  bushrangers  gave  a  start. 

"Who?" 

"  Harkaway." 

"  Do  you  know  him  ?  " 

Toro  laughed  bitterly. 

"To  my  cost.  He  destroyed  our  band  in  Italy,  rooted 
us  out  in  Greece.  Ah,  it  was  an  unlucky' day  that  we  fell 
foul  of  the  Englishman,  Jack  Harkaway." 

"I  know  all  that  story,"  said  the  chief;  "so  you  are 
one  of  those  men.  What  is  your  name  ? " 

"It  was  Toro,  then." 

"Toro!"  ejaculated  the  other;  "you  are  Toro,  the 
giant  brigand?" 

"Yes." 

"And  he?" 

"Bigamini,  the  spy." 

"Of  course — of  course.  I  should  have  guessed  as 
much.  Now,  I'll  tell  you  what,  Toro,  and  you  too, 
Bigamini,  ours  is  a  free  and  easy  life — we  are,  as  you 
guessed,  bushrangers,  and  my  band  has  a  name  which 


48  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

has  inspired  fear,  if  not  respect,  in  all  the  country  round. 
Will  you  join  us  ?  " 

'  Gladly  !  "  ejaculated  Toro,  promptly. 

'  And  you  ?  " 

'  Rayther,  my  pippin,"  cheerfully  responded  Bigamini. 

'You  know  our  names,  now  tell  us  your  name,"  said 
the  Italian  convict. 

'Morgan." 

'What,"     cried     Toro    and     Bigamini,     in    surprise, 
"Morgan  !" 

"Yes,  Captain  Morgan,  the  bushranger." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

HORSE    TAMING   A   LA    RAREY — YOUNG    JACK    TO    THE    RESCUE — 
WHAT   A    BOTTLE    OF    CHAMPAGNE    DID    FOR    IT. 

THE  bloodhounds  were  got  back  by  Monday  and  his 
sable  companion  from  the  fruitless  chase  after  the  escaped 
convicts. 

Indeed,  it  was  quite  by  accident  that  they  had  joined  in 
the  hunt. 

When  the  alarm  was  given,  Sunday  happened  to  be 
exercising  the  dogs,  for  it  was  a  very  hot  night,  and  he 
could  not  sleep,  when  one  of  the  men  from  the  gaol  came 
running  up,  and  pressed  him  into  the  service. 

Next  morning  there  was  a  great  stir  in  the  Harkaway 
household. 

It  was  the  day  appointed  for  starting  on  their  journey, 
providing  all  the  preparations  were  complete. 

The  horses  were  especially  troublesome,  for  several  of 
them  were  not  broken  in. 

Amongst  the  latter  category  was  a  colt  that  had  mas- 
tered most  of  their  men,  and  thrown  both  Sunday  and 
Monday,  who  were  good  horsemen. 

Accordingly  Harkaway  was  consulted,  and  the  colt  was 
brought  round  to  him  to  receive  his  opinion  upon  it. 

"A  beautiful  little  thing,"  he  said.  "How  smart  1 
What  action  !  Yet  I  can  see  that  he  is  a  little  spitfire." 

And  they  all  stood  around  looking  on,  when  Mr.  Mole 
came  up. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  4g 

•'I  must  say  I  think  that  young  men  have  degenerated 
since  I  was  a  lad,"  he  said. 

"Indeed,  Mr.  Mole,''  said  Dick  Harvey,  with  -a  sly 
wink  at  young  Jack. 

"Why,  sir?  "  said  young  Jack. 

"Why  ? "  ejaculated  Mole.     "  Do  you  ask  why  ? " 

"Well,  I  certainly  did,  sir,"  answered  young  Jack, 
quietly.  "At  least,  so  I  thought." 

"Then  I  may  tell  you  it  is  because  when  I  was  a 
young  man,  I  should  have  thought  no  more  of  jumping 
on  that  colt's  back  than  of  whistling  Jack  Robinson." 

"  About  the  same,  I  suppose,  sir,"  said  Dick  Harvey. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  you  never  think  of  whistling  Jack  Robin- 
son, and  I  suppose  you  would  just  about  as  much  have 
thought  of  mounting  that  colt." 

"Well,  I  don't  suppose  that  you  are  going  to  try, 
Harvey,"  said  old  Mole,  with  the  most  aggravating  air  in 
the  world.  ' '  You  have  your  points,  Harvey,  but  you  were 
never  distinguished — you'll  excuse  my  saying  so — by 
any  great  degree  of  daring  intrepidity." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  said  Harvey,  slightly  nettled.  "  Have 
you  forgotten  the  Greek  brigands  ? " 

"Stop  a  bit,"  said  young  Jack  ;  "let's  all  have  a  turn  at 
him,  and  try  if  we  can't  get  his  mettle  under  a  bit." 

"  De  horse  is  a  'farnal  tarter,  Massa  Jack,"  said  Monday. 

"Frightened  you,  Monday!"  exclaimed  young  Jack 
grinning. 

"No,  no,"  returned  Monday,  quickly;  "de  horse  as 
could  do  dat  don't  exist  on  dis  here  side  ob  Jordan." 

Mole  chuckled  audibly. 

' '  Brag's  a  good  dog, "  said  Jack,  ' '  but  Holdfiast's  a 
better." 

"I'llhab  another  turn  at  de  animal,  if  I  die,"  said 
Monday. 

"Bravo,  Monday  !"  exclaimed  Harkaway,  heartily. 

"Bravo  !" 

Monday  caught  the  colt  by  the  bridle,  and  held  him  in 
a  grip  of  iron,  while  he  edged  up  to  his  side. 

"  Woa,  woa  !  "  cried  Monday, 

The  colt  remained  perfectly   still   for   a   time  ;    but   no 
sooner  did  he  feel  the  Prince  of  Limbi's  knees  near  his 
side  than  up  went  his  heels. 
4 


50  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

For  this  he  was  rewarded  with  a  good  smart  punch  in 
the  ribs  by  Monday,  which  served  to  steady  him  for 
awhile. 

Profiting  by  a  moment  or  so  of  calm  Monday  leaped 
into  the  saddle. 

"Now,  no  sooner  did  the  restive  colt  feel  the  weight  of 
his  rider,  than  up  went  his  heels  again. 

Then  he  reared  up  in  front 

"Keep  quiet!"  cried  Monday,  giving  him  a  spank 
across  the  haunches. 

The  colt  sprang  forward. 

"  Oh,  oh  !  "  cried  Monday  ;  "  somebody  hold  him,  or 
he  kill  me." 

The  colt  then  jumped  up  all  fours  in  the  air,  and  career- 
ing sideways  as  he  touched  the  ground,  over  went  the 
darkey,  flat  on  his  back. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  Sunday,  "  lubly  hoss  riding  : 
old  Monday  bery  clever." 

"Went  down  all  of  a  lump,  eh,  Monday?  "  said  Dick. 

"  Monday,  my  boy,  you  ought  to  limit  your  daring  to 
riding  our  goat,"  said  Mr.  Mole. 

"Now,  then,  Sunday,"  cried  Harkaway,  "  you  have 
your  chance." 

Sunday  perceived  them  grinning  all  round,  and  he 
would  fain  have  been  excused. 

But  there  was  no  getting  out  of  it. 

"Up  with  you,"  said  Harkaway  laughing. 

"  I'se  gwine,  sir ;  dis  child  not  afraid,"  returned  Sunday 
who  was  especially  anxious  that  his  shrinking  should  not 
be  observed. 

"The  beast  is  not  vicious,"  said  Harvey.  "  I'm  sure  of 
that." 

'Try  him,  Dick,"  said  Mole. 

'If  Sunday  is  dropped,  I  will,"  answered  Harvey. 
'Hab  my  turn  ;  I  don't  want  it,   Massa  Harvey,"  said 
Sunday,  jumping  back  with  alacrity. 
'No,  thanks  ;  up  you  go,  Sunday." 
'My  opinion,"  Mr.  Mole  observed,  with  some  dignity, 
"is  that  the  girth  is  much  too  tight ;  you're  cutting  the 
horse  in  two,  and  yet  you  are  surprised  to  find  him   res- 
tive. " 

Sunday  glanced  at  it,  and  nodded  at  Mole. 

"Tank'ee,  budder-in-la', "  he  said,  with  that  peculiar 


A D  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  5 1 

grin  which  made  the  old  gentleman  writhe ;  "I'se  almost 
sartain  you've  got  it  right  for  once,  old  boy." 

He  loosened  the  girth,  and  then  he  caught  at  the  horse's 
mane. 

Round  and  round  went  the  vicious  beast,  and  do  all  he 
would,  he  could  not  get  his  foot  in  the  stirrup. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha,"  laughed  Mr.  Mole.  "Very  good,  a  very 
good  horseman — quite  aDucrow. " 

"Quite  a  Jim  Crow,"  said  Jefferson,  grinning. 

"That's  nearer  the  mark." 

This  excited  such  a  grin,  that  Sunday  lost  his  temper. 

"  Look  hyar,  budder-in-la',"  said  he,  "  don't  you  go  to 
be  so  'farnal  dam  imperent. " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  the  whole  of  the  bystanders. 

Goaded  to  deeds  of  daring  by  this,  Sunday,  who  was 
remarkably  active,  rushed  at  the  colt,  and  catching  wildly 
at  the  mane,  he  made  a  prodigious  leap. 

Hey,  presto  ! 

He  was  in  the  saddle. 

But  alas  !  for  the  poor  darkey,  the  colt  had  been  too 
quick  for  him,  and  pirouetted  just  at  the  self-same  mo- 
ment that  Sunday  had  made  his  leap,  and  the  con- 
sequence was,  although  he  was  up,  he  found  himself  the 
wrong  side  of  London. 

In  other  words,  he  was  facing  the  tail,  which  he 
grabbed  at,  on  the  first  impulsive  instinct,  and  now  held 
as  a  bridle. 

It  was  a  sight  to  remember  then. 

The  darkey's  look  of  amazement  as  he  held  the  tail  was 
comical  in  the  extreme. 

" What's  dat;  not  him  head?"  he  ejaculated,  staring 
about  stupidly. 

He  looked  at  Mole,  and  at  Harvey,  and  then  at  young 
Jack,  as  if  suspecting  that  they  were  responsible  for  this 
mishap. 

"Bravo,  Sunday  !  "  cried  Mr.  Mole,  vociferously. 

"Bravo!" 

"That's  the  best  way  to  get  up." 

"You'll  stay  on  quite  as  long  that  way,"  said  Mr.  Mole  ; 
"but  mind  you  don't  swallow  his  tail." 

"  Go  an' swally  yar  wooden  props,  brudder-in-la', "  said 
Sunday,  with  ineffable  contempt. 

"Insolent  nigger  !  "  retorted  Mr.  Mole. 


5  2  JACK  HARK  A  WAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"Yah!" 

The  wild  yell  of  the  infuriated  nigger  set  the  colt  on 
the  pirouette  again. 

Round   and  round. 

Still  Sunday  clutched  the  colt's  tail  like  grim  death. 

Up  and  down. 

Then  that  ugly  side-jump,  like  a  frisky  kitten  when  it 
pretends  to  be  startled. 

Sunday  wrenched  again  at  the  tail  as  though  it  was  a 
stout  rein  with  a  powerful  bit  at  the  end  of  it,  when  the 
colt,  not  approving  of  this  kind  of  treatment,  kicked  out. 

Up  went  his  heels. 

"Bravo,  Sunday!"  cried  the  boys,  excitedly,  "keep 
it  up." 

But  just  as  they  had  uttered  these  words  of  encourage- 
ment, the  colt  sprang  up  suddenly  sideways,  and  Sunday 
was  jolted  from  his  hold  upon  the  tail. 

He  turned  and  clutched  at  the  saddle. 

It  shifted. 

"Golly  !  "  cried  Sunday,  in  alarm,  "  de  blessed  saddle 
is  gwine  to  v'yage. " 

"The  belly-band's  loose,"  said  Jefferson. 

But  no  one  could  get  near  enough  to  the  animal  to 
tighten  it,  and  slowly  but  surely  down  went  the  saddle, 
with  Sunday  clinging  frantically  to  it,  until  he  slid  fairly 
under  the  horse's  belly. 

They  did  not  laugh  now. 

This  situation  was  even  more  perilous  than  droll. 

However,  the  colt  rested  for  a  moment,  and  then 
Jefferson  clutched  him  by  the  head  and  held  him  in  a 
grasp  which  master  colt  took  as  a  wholesome  warning  to 
remain  still. 

As  soon   as  Sunday  was  rescued  from   his  dangerous 
position,  he  began  to  abuse  his  brother-in-law  Isaac  Mole. 
'  Dat's  your  fault,  brudder-in-la, ' "  he  said,  indignantly. 
'  Mine  !  "  quoth  the  old  gentleman,  in  amazement. 
'Yes,  yourn." 
'  How  so  ?  " 

'  Didn't  you  tell  me  to  loosen  the  girths  ?  " 
:Bah!"    yelled   Mr.    Mole,    contemptuously;     "you 
must  have  a  rocking-horse  to  tame,   my  good  Sunday ; 
that  is  more  in  your  line." 

A  general  laugh  greeted  Mr.  Mole's  taunt 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


53 


"  I  should  like  to  see  Mr.  Mole  have  a  try, "  laughed  Dick. 

"Oh!"  cried  the  worthy  Isaac,  "that's  the  way  you 
want  to  shirk  out  of  your  job,  after  making  such  a  parade 
of  volunteering  to  mount  it." 

They  grinned  at  this,  but  Dick  tightened  the  colt's 
girth,  and  vaulted  into  the  saddle  with  the  ease  of  an 
experienced  riding-master. 

Dick  held  the  colt  tight  in  hand,  but  the  vicious  animal 
made  a  sudden  rush  off,  and  then  suddenly  pulling  up 
short,  sent  the  rider  flying  over  -his  head. 

Dick  was  much  shaken,  but  got  up  and  joined  good- 
humouredly  in  the  grin  at  his  own  expense. 

Jefferson  now  had  a  turn,  and  by  sheer  strength  he 
created  a  sort  of  respect  for  himself  in  the  colt's  mind, 
but  in  a  moment,  he  caught  his  rider  unawares,  and  laid 
Jefferson  as  neatly  as  possible  upon  the  flat  of  his  back. 

"Now  then,  Harkaway,"  he  cried,  jumping  up. 

"My  turn,"  said  old  Jack,  nothing  loth,  and  coming 
forward  with  a  laugh  ;  "  make  way  there.  Let  me  get  a 
fair  hold  of  the  wild  creature." 

At  this  juncture  young  Jack  came  forward,  and  begged 
his  father  to  allow  him  to  take  his  place. 

"  You'll  get  hurt,  perhaps  killed,  Jack." 

"  I  don't  mind  that,  dad,"  returned  the  boy,  promptly. 

"I  know  that,  sir,"  answered  his  father,  "but  I  do." 

"  I  don't  fear  danger,  dad." 

And  as  if  to  put  an  end  to  the  disscussion,  impudent 
young  Jack  caught  hold  of  the  colt,  and  jumped  into  the 
saddle. 

The  frisky  animal  had  not  had  such  a  light  weight  out- 
side before,  so  he  played  some  pranks  of  quite  a  novel 
and  unexpected  character. 

He  bounded  forward  and  stopped  short. 

Then  danced  aside. 

Then  took  a  run,  and  jumped  an  imaginary  brook,  but 
young  Jack  held  on. 

He  was  more  difficult  to  dislodge  than  any  of  his  pre- 
decessors. 

The  colt  grew  frantic. 

Up  it  went  on  its  hind  legs,  until  young  Jack  was  in  a 
perfectly  perpendicular  attitude. 

"So,  sir,"  said  the  young  rider,  "you  won't  give  over  ; 
you'll  not  keep  still-" 


54  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOJV  S 

The  colt's  reply  was  to  bound  in  the  air  all  four  legs 
together. 

Then  off  he  tore. 

A  mad,  wild  gallop,  just  as  Mazeppa  was  borne  through 
the  desert. 

' '  Jack,  Jack  !  "  cried  his  father,  ' '  for  Heaven's  sake, 
take  care." 

Young  Jack  stuck  well  to  the  wild  colt. 

After  careering  round  and  round  for  awhile  like  this — 
for  he  was  forced  to  obey  the  rein  a  little — he  came  to  a 
sudden  stoppage  and  stood  for  a  moment,  prior  to  spring- 
ing off  again,  but  young  Jack  did  not  leave  him  time 
to  get  off  again. 

He  had  a  bottle  of  champagne  in  his  pocket  which  he 
had  put  there  for  the  colt  as  an  experiment. 

And  waiting  his  chance,  then  seizing  the  bottle  by  the 
neck,  he  gave  the  colt  a  sharp  and  heavy  blow  with  the 
body  of  the  bottle  across  the  forehead. 

Bang  went  the  bottle,  between  his  ears,  and  the  wine 
streamed  down  his  face,  and  running  into  his  eyes,  the 
colt  stood  still  upon  the  instant,  trembling  from  head  to 
foot  with  fear — but  tamed  as  if  by  magic. 

"Now,"  said  his  rider,  and  his  master,  young  Jack, 
"just  go  round  to  please  me." 

He  touched  the  colt  lightly  with  the  spur,  and  he 
started  off  at  an  easy  canter. 

Back  he  came,  and  stood  stock-still  in  the  exact  spot 
where  young  Jack  wished  him  to. 

"  He  won't  try  those  larks  on  again,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Bravo,  Jack  !  "   shouted  Jefferson. 

They  all  caught  up  the  cry,  Mole  included,  shouting — 

"Bravo,  Champagne  Jack  !  " 

And  young  Jack  was  decidedly  the  colt-tamer  and  hero 
of  the  hour. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TRALIA. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ROOK    THE    CONVICT THE    HARKAWAY     PARTY    ON    THE    MARCH — 

AN   INCIDENT   OF  TRAVEL THE  ALARM  AT    THE  CAMP — MIKE'S 

WARNING. 

THE  expedition  started  for  their  new  settlement. 

"  It  looks  like  a  grand  caravan,"  said  young  Jack. 

And  in  point  of  fact,  it  was  rather  an  important  pro- 
cession altogether. 

Leading  them  were  the  two  darkeys,  who  formed  a 
sort  of  advanced  guard. 

Sunday  and  Monday  were  mounted  upon  a  pair  of 
stout  mules. 

Behind  them  were  two  mounted  servants,  who  had 
been  engaged  whilst  in  Sydney. 

Then  followed  a  large  waggon-load  of  necessaries  of 
every  description. 

Next  came  two  more  servants  from  the  colony,  and 
following  upon  the  tamed  horse  was  young  Jack,  with 
his  friend  Harry  Girdwood  beside  him,  well  mounted 
upon  a  coal-black  horse. 

Following  these  were  two  tumbrils  of  goods  and 
chattels. 

Then  there  were  three  horsemen  riding  abreast 

Jack  Harkaway  the  elder,  between  Jefferson  and  Dick 
Harvey. 

Next  to  young  Jack's,  this  was  the  part  of  the  pro- 
cession which  commanded  the  greatest  attention. 

After  this  came  an  open  carriage  or  drag,  in  which 
were  seated  Mrs.  Harkaway,  Mrs.  Harvey,  little  Emily, 
Ada,  Paquita,  Mr.  Mole,  and  his  dark  spouse. 

Following  them  were  three  waggon-loads  of  goods, 
then  a  cargo  of  female  domestics,  and  a  guard  of  male 
servants,  mounted  and  armed,  brought  up  the  rear. 

They  followed  the  course  of  the  river,  and  having  by 
twelve  o'clock  come  to  a  leafy  glade  by  the  riverside, 
they  decided  upon  stopping  to  lunch  and  rest  during  the 
fiercer  heat  of  the  day. 

"Get  out  the  fishing-rods,  and  tackle,  boys,"  cried  old 
Jack,  ' '  and  let  us  have  some  fresh  fish  to  offer  the  ladies." 


56  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

The  boys  went  to  work  immediately. 

"There's  trout  here,  Jack,"  Harry  Gird  wood  said. 

"We'll  precious  soon  have  some  then,"  answered 
young  Jack. 

A  little  patience,  helped  out  by  some  skill  in  angling, 
enabled  them  to  a  land  few  fine  fish,  but  no  trout,  in 
the  course  of  a  few  minutes. 

"They're  not  shy  here,  ma,"  said  young  Jack,  to  his 
mother. 

"They're  like  my  boy  in  that  respect,"  said  Mrs. 
Harkaway. 

"Very  good,  very  good,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Mole,  "he's 
not  at  all  shy,  my  dear." 


Next  day,  about  sundown,  the  party  had  made  a  con- 
siderable advance,  and  they  were  just  thinking  of  camp- 
ing for  the  night,  when  an  incident  occurred  which  it  is 
as  well  to  notice. 

"This  looks  a  favourable  place  for  the  ladies'  tent,"  said 
Jefferson,  surveying  an  open  spot  closely  surrounded  by 
trees. 

Harkaway  rode  up  with  the  two  coloured  gentlemen. 

"Yes,  this  will  do.  Up  with  the  tent.  Rook,  Rook! 
Why,  where  the  deuce  is  Rook  ?  " 

The  word  went  forward. 

"  Rook  !  "  cried  several  of  the  party,  in  a  chorus. 

"Where  is  he?" 

There  was  a  general  hunt  at  this,  for  Rook  was  quite  an 
expert  at  tent-pitching  and  as  their  present  tent  was  of 
considerable  dimensions,  it  wanted  someone  who  under- 
stood his  work  to  take  the  management  of  it. 

Rook  was  one  of  the  helps  or  men-servants  who  had 
been  engaged  by  Harkaway  from  the  convict  settle- 
ment. 

He  had  been  strongly  recommended  by  the  chaplain 
and  by  the  governor,  who  both  attested  to  Rook's  good 
behaviour. 

*****  * 

"  Where  is  Rook  ?    Why,  there  he  is,"  cried  Harry  Gird' 
wood,  standing  up  in  his  stirrups. 
"Where?" 
"In  the  water." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TK  A  LI  A.  5  7 

They  turned  round  at  this,  and  then  they  perceived 
Rook  a  long  way  down  the  stream  swimming  round  a 
white  object  which  was  bobbing  about  in  the  water. 

What  could  it  be  ? 

"He  is  imprudent  to  go  bathing  while  he  is  so  hot," 
said  Jefferson.  ' '  I  heard  him  complaining  of  the  heat  not 
an  hour  ago. " 

"So  did  I." 

.  A  shout  was  raised  for  him,  but  the  distance  being  too 
great  for  the  voice  to  reach,  a  call  was  blown  by  young 
Jack  upon  his  bugle — a  signal  understood  to  recall  strag- 
glers from  the  party,  which  was  a  very  useful  thing  in 
such  a  party  as  this  was — and  its  shrill  echo  soon  caught 
his  attention. 

The  swimmer  threw  up  one  arm  and  waved  it  in  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  signal,  then  he  struck  out  for  shore. 

To  throw  on  his  guernsey,  flannel  garibaldi,  and  get  into 
his  boots  was  the  work  but  of  a  few  moments. 

Then  off  he  ran  and  came  up  at  a  quick  double. 

Rook  was  a  smartly-built  fellow,  with  a  keen,  cunning 
face. 

He  had  an  eye  which  took  in  every  thing  at  a  single 
glance. 

He  went  straight  up  to  old  Jack,  and  gave  him  a  semi- 
military  salute. 

"  I  hope  I  am  not  offending,  Mr.  Harkaway  ?  "  he  said. 

"No,  no,  Rook." 

"Quite  innocently  if  I  did  offend,  sir,"  returned  Rook; 
"the  day  has  been  very  hot,  and  as  you  were  nearly  halt- 
ing for  the  night,  I  thought  I  would  take  a  dip  before  it 
got  too  dark  ;  the  sun  goes  down  so  suddenly  here." 

"There's  no  harm  done,  Rook,"  returned  old  Jack  smil- 
ing ;  "  we  were  concerned  for  you." 

"  You  are  very  good  to  me,  sir,"  said  the  man,  hanging 
his  head. 

Harkaway  looked  rather  anxiously  round. 

"Keep  your  own  counsel,  Rook,  about  the  past." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Let  us  keep  it  to  ourselves,"  said  old  Jack,  earnestly, 
"and  who  knows  but  that  a  new  and  happy  future  lies 
before  us,  with  forgetfulness,  utter  oblivion  of  all  that  is 
bad  in  our  past  ?  " 

Rook  stood  abashed  and  silent  before  his  patron. 


58  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOWS 

Why  had  he  nothing  to  say  for  himself  now  ?  We  shall 
see. 

"Come,  Rook,"  said  Jefferson,  stepping  forward,  "up 
with  the  tent. " 

"  We  are  going  to  pitch  here,  sir?  " 

"Yes." 

' '  Very  good. " 

Rook,  aroused  from  a  momentary  reverie  which  the 
incident  with  Harkaway  had  occasioned,  set  to  work  in  a 
regular  business-like  way  to  raise  the  ladies'  pavilion. 

"The  centre-pole  here,  Mr.  Monday,  please;  now, 
Burgess,  and  you  too,  Watts,  pull  altogether  with  me,  and 
it  is  up  in  three  movements." 

Then  the  edges  of  the  canvas  were  pegged  down 
securely,  and  after  this  there  remained  nothing  to  do  but 
to  bring  in  the  furniture. 


Rook,  the  ticket-of-leave  man,  stood  by  the  riverside, 
looking  moodily  into  the  water. 

He  was  in  trouble. 

Sore  trouble. 

He  was  quarrelling  with  himself,  and  it's  an  old  and 
true  saying  that  that  is  the  worst  person  in  the  world  to 
be  at  loggerheads  with. 

"There  can  be  no  mistake  about  me.  I  am  bad, 
thoroughly  bad  at  heart,"  he  mused,  "or  I  should  never 
have  listened  to  Morgan's  man  and  his  temptations.  I 
must  be  mad,  too,  for  all  questions  of  gratitude  apart, 
my  interest  is  here.  This  Harkaway  is  rich  and  powerful 
and  generous.  He  is  the  first  man  who  ever  held  out 
the  hand  of  friendship  to  me,  and  he  does  it  too  when  the 
world  discards  me  for  ever.  Why  did  I  listen  to  that  spy 
— that  serpent's  tongue  in  Sydney  ?  " 

That  question  was  very  easily  answered. 

Contact  with  good  and  innocent  people  had  gradually 
worked  a  change  in  his  nature,  which  was  perhaps  not 
altogether  bad. 

But  temptations  had  been  thrown  in  his  way. 

Glittering  promises,  rich  rewards,  and  a  life  of  freedom 
had  all  dazzled  a  man  who  was  barely  free  from  the  prison- 
cell. 

And  next  moment  his  patron  and  would-be  benefactor 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


59 


had  given  him  words  of  comfort  *nd  of  sympathy,  which 
wrung  his  heart. 

"  Fool,  fool,  and  villain  that  I  hrve  been,"  he  murmured 
wringing  his  hands  in  anguish.  "  What  punishment  do 
I  not  deserve  ?  " 

"Rook." 

A  light  hand  was  placed  upon  his  shoulder. 

He  turned  shortly  round  and  gave  a  guilty  start 

Harkaway  stood  at  Rook's  elbow,  looking  at  him  with 
considerable  earnestness. 

' '  What  was  that  white  thing  floating  in  the  water  ? "  asked 
Harkaway. 

The  convict's  glance  fell. 

"Where,  sir?'? 

"Where  you  were  bathing." 

"Only  a  piece  of  paper  which  had  blown  there  ;  I  saw 
it  and  thought  it  was  some  water-lily  or  other  plant.  And 
as  I  heard  the  young  lady — Miss  Emily,  say  she  should 
like  one,  I  swam  out  to  get  it,  but  I  was  disappointed,  that 
is  why  I  did  not  speak  of  it." 

"What  kind  of  paper  was  it?"  said  Harkaway. 

"A  paper  bag,  or  some  thing  of  that  kind.  It  had  been 
thrown  away  probably  by  someone  of  our  party,  s"">  arjd 
blown  there." 

At  this  moment  young  Jack's  voice  was  heard  calling 
his  father. 

Harkaway  ran  off,  followed  by  Rook. 

He  reached  the  Harkaways  just  in  time  to  hear  them 
talking  of  something  which  made  him  turn  hot  and  cold 
all  in  a  second. 

"Mike  was  so  restless  and  uneasy,"  said  young  Jack, 
"that  Harry  and  I  took  him  to  find  out  what  it  could 
mean.  We  made  our  way  towards  that  clump  of  trees 
yonder." 

"  What  did  you  discover  ? "  asked  Harkaway. 

"  Nothing.  We  have  returned  for  the  hounds,  and  some 
more  assistance." 

"  Very  prudent,  Jack." 

"Why,  you  see,  dad,  if  it  is  only  some  large  game,  we 
should  get  Mike  into  trouble,  perhaps,  and  if  any  thing 
worse,  it  is  as  well  for  us  to  be  prepared." 

"  Very  good  indeed,  Jack.     Jefferson  1 " 

"What  now?" 


60  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  ASS  SO  A'  'S 

"Get  two  of  the  hounds,  and  come  with  us  to  the  wood 
yonder.  Bring  your  gun." 

Jefferson  perceived  by  Harkaway's  manner  that  it  was 
urgent,  and  so  he  was  soon  ready  with  his  gun  and  the 
bloodhounds. 

"Stay  by  the  ladies'  tent,  Rook,''  said  Harkaway.  "It 
is  a  post  of  honour,  my  good  fellow." 

' '  Yes,  sir. " 

Harkaway  and  the  party,  comprising  Jefferson  and  the 
two  boys,  hurried  off,  leaving  Rook  on  guard  at  the  tent. 

"I'll  keep  my  post,"  said  the  convict,  looking  after 
them;  "but  if  any  harm  should  come  of  this,  to  th^t 
noble-hearted  fellow,  Harkaway,  I'll  put  a  pistol  in  my 
mouth,  and  blow  my  worthless  brains  out." 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   FIRST   PERILS    OF  THE    NEW    EXPEDITIONS A    TRAITOR     I*) 

CAMP — THE    WATCH — A   BLACK    BOBBY   UNKNOWN   IN   SCOTLAND 

YARD— THE  SPY'S    MISSIVE A   WARNING TORO    IN   TROUBLE — 

FORDING  A  RIVER — WHERE*S  BOBBY  ? 

WITHIN  a  hundred  yards  of  the  spot  where  Rook  had 
jumped  into  the  water  to  bathe  was  a  clump  of  trees, 
where  there  were  three  men  lying  concealed. 

Three  men? 

Well,  two  were  certainly  men,  and  big,  sturdy  fellows 
too  ;  but  the  third  would  be  more  properly  described  as 
a  boy. 

The  two  men  had  the  dress  and  general  bearing  of 
bushrangers,  and  were  armed  with  hatchets  and  with 
rifles. 

The  boy  was  a  bright-eyed  lad,  black  as  a  sloe  and 
glossy  as  though  his  skin  had  been  polished  up  with  oil 
and  bees'-wax,  such  as  we  use  to  renovate  our  mahogany 
sideboards. 

Around  his  loins  he  wore  a  coloured  handkerchief, 
which  was  his  entire  wardrobe. 

He  was  armed  too. 

But  his  only  weapon  was  a  short  axe  or  tomahawk, 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  6 1 

which  was  stuck  into  the  coloured  handkerchief-garment 
in  position. 

Now  one  of  these  men  carried  a  fieldglass  in  a  sling  by 
his  side,  and  with  it  he  was  busied  the  whole  time  in 
taking  observations  of  the  movements  of  the  carivanseri. 

"  Can  you  see  him  ?  "  demanded  one  of  the  men,  a  huge 
fellow,  whose  foreign  accent  should  reveal  his  identity  to 
the  reader  at  once. 

"Who?" 

"  Harkaway.     Is  he  alone?" 

"No." 

"  Wait  till  he  is,  then,  and " 

"And  what  ?" 

"Pop  him  off." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?  "  demanded  his  companion,  in 
some  astonishment.  "  Shoot  him  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Why,  what  on  earth  for?  I'm  not  given  to  shooting 
men  for  mischiefs  sake." 

"  But  I  hate  this  Harkaway  like  poison." 

"Well,  I  know  precious  little  of  him,"  said  the  other, 
coolly  ;  ' '  but  that  little  has  rather  impressed  me  in  his 
favour. " 

The  other  stared. 

"You  mean  that  you  like  him?" 

"Yes,  for  his  courage." 

The  other's  black  eyes  flashed  fiercely. 

"You  like  this  man,  do  you?  Well,  then,  all  I  have 
to  say  is,  that  any  man  who  likes  Harkaway  can't  like 
me." 

The  bushranger  listened  quietly. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  ever  professed  to  have  any  affec- 
tion for  you,  Mr.  T.,"  he  said,  with  a  mocking  laugh.  "  I 
deceived  you  if  I  did,  that's  all." 

His  burly  companion  swelled  out  and  swore  again. 

"  Morgan,  beware  of  me  ;  if  you  offend  me,  I  have 
your " 

What  more  he  was  about  to  say  must  be  left  to  the  im- 
agination, for  ere  he  could  complete  his  boastful  menace, 
his  companion  clapped  the  muzzle  of  his  gun  to  his  chest, 
while  his  finger  trembled  upon  the  trigger. 

"Silence,  you  bragging,  bullying  beast!"  he  said,  in 
low,  earnest  tones  between  his  set  teeth,  "and  learn,  my 


02  JA  CK  HARKA  WAY  AND  HIS  SOWS 

maccaroni,  that  men  who  threaten  John  Morgan  are  as  * 
rule  short-lived." 

A  pause. 

It  was  a  precious  awkward  situation. 

The  bully's  colour  came  and  went. 

He  quailed. 

Had  he  dared  to  utter  another  word  of  menace,  his  life 
would  have  paid  forfeit  for  his  temerity. 

This  he  knew. 

"You  haven't  anything  to  say  for  yourself,  Toro,"  said 
his  companion,  lowering  his  gun,  "  I  thought  you  would 
come  to  your  senses.  It  is  no  fault  of  mine  if  you  haven't 
come  to  them  before.  But  I  object  to  scenes  of  this  kind  •, 
let  it  serve  you  once  for  all  as  a  lesson  that  our  positions 
are  not  alike.  I  command — you  obey." 

Toro  was  cowed. 

The  black  boy  stared  at  the  two  in  silent  curiosity. 

But  by  degrees  it  dawned  upon  him  that  they  were 
quarrelling,  and  then  he  drew  his  tomahawk,  and  gave  i\ 
a  flourish. 

"Um  fellar  am  bery  much  considerable  dam  beast, 
sar,"  said  he  to  Morgan.  "Bobby  slice  um  liver,  sar ? " 

And  he  made  a  movement  towards  Toro,  only  waiting 
for  his  master's  word  to  set  to  work  in  real,  right-down 
earnest. 

"No,  no,  Bobby;  not  now " 

"Do  it  quick,  sar,  tremenjously  bery  much,  sar." 

And  he  flourished  his  axe  with  great  eagerness. 

"  No,  no,  Bobby  ;  be  quiet." 

His  queer  English,  with  the  extravagant  adjectives, 
puzzled  Toro,  but  he  dimly  guessed  that  the  boy  meant 
mischief  to  him,  and  so  thought  it  a  safe  opportunity  of 
venting  some  of  the  rage  and  spite  which  were  boiling 
over  within  him. 

"  Saucy  imp  !  "  he  said. 

And  he  dealt  Master  Tinker  Bobby  one  back-hander 
which  sent  him  rolling  over  and  over  upon  the  ground. 

The  black  boy  scrambled  up,  looking  quite  dazed. 

"  Hullo  !  "  exclaimed  Captain  Morgan,  "  that  is  what  I 
can't  allow.  Quiet,  Tinker  ;  put  by  your  axe,  do  you 
hear  ?  If  we  see  any  thing  more  of  that  sort,  Mr.  Toro, 
we  shall  have  to  be  unpleasant  generally." 

Toro  scowled. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRAUA.  63 

"You  needn't  fear  for  the  boy,  captain,"  he  said,  with 
a  sneer. 

"I  don't  fear  for  him,"  returned  Morgan;  "but  for 
you. " 

"Me!" 

"Yes  ;  and  I  can't  afford  to  have  a  good  man  like  you 
maimed  through  any  silly  broil  that  may  arise." 

A  sullen  silence  ensued. 

****** 

"  Look  out !  " 

"Where?  " 

"There  !  See,  there's  one  of  their  men  who  is  going 
to  bathe.  Look,  he  throws  his  jacket  off." 

Morgan  clapped  his  glass  up  to  his  eye. 

"Why,  it  is  our  man,  Rook." 

He  followed  the  ex-convict's  movements  with  his  glass 
until  the  bugle  from  the  Harkaway  camp  sounded  his 
recall. 

Then  he  struck  in  for  shore,  and  left  some  thing  white 
floating  about. 

"  That's  what  he  has  been  there  for,"  said  Morgan,  in 
a  tone  indicative  of  subdued  excitement.  "We  must 
have  that." 

"Tinker  Bobby  go  fetch  it,  sar  ?"  said  the  black  boy  ; 
' '  bring  it  tremenjous  exceedin'  bery  quick,  sar. " 

"Not  yet.     Wait." 

They  waited  until  the  momentary  excitement  in  the 
Harkaway  camp  was  stilled,  and  then  upon  the  word  of 
command  from  Captain  Morgan,  the  black  boy  dived  into 
the  water. 

He  was  under  for  an  amazing  time,  and  when  he  shot 
up  to  the  surface,  it  was  close  to  the  floating  white  object 
which  had  excited  so  much  attention  upon  all  sides. 

' '  I'se  got  it  awful  bery  tight,  sar,"  cried  Bobby,  splutter- 
ing. 

"  Come  back,  then." 

"Yes,  »ar." 

He  gave  one  vigorous  stroke,  and  shot  towards  th< 
shore. 

The  paper  was  written  on  and  folded  triple,  so  as  to  pre 
serve  the  writing  from  the  action  of  the  water. 

"Here's  glorious  news!"  Morgan  exclaimed,  ii 
subdued  excitement 


64  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

11  Let  us  share  it,"  saidToro. 

"Read." 

He  handed  the  paper  to  Toro,  who  hastily  scanned  it 
through. 

"This  is  good,  indeed,  Captain  Morgan,"  he  exclaimed. 

What  was  this  ? 

Simply  the  following  words,  written  upon  what  Rook, 
the  ex-convict,  had  professed  to  be  a  piece  of  waste 
paper — 

"  The  bulk  of  the  valuables  maybe  found  in  the  van 
of  the  procession.  They  are  contained  in  the  last  tumbril 
but  one.  Be  wary,  for  they  are  all  fully  armed,  and 
every  man  here  is  a  formidable  enemy  to  cope  with." 

"None  can  speak  better  on  that  point  than  you,  Toro, 
I  believe,"  said  Captain  Morgan. 

"To  my  cost  I  know  it." 

•'Forward,  then  !  "  said  Morgan. 

They  hurried  along,  skirting  the  wood  lining  their  bank 
of  the  river  until  they  got  about  a  hundred  yards  or  so 
ahead  of  the  encampment. 

•'Now,"  said  Captain  Morgan,  "we  shall  have  to 
ford  it." 

"Yes." 

"  Bobby ! " 

"Sar?" 

"Try  the  river." 

"Yes." 

The  black  boy  dropped  down  into  the  river  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  instead  of  being  able  to  ford  it, 
he  discovered  himself  in  a  hole  a  good  twelve  feet  deep. 

But  he  was  so  thoroughly  used  to  the  water  that  he 
shot  up  to  the  surface  again  in  a  crack. 

"Bery  considerable  dam  deep  here,  sar,"  he  said  splut- 
tering and  spitting  the  water  out  of  his  mouth. 

"  Hush  ! " 

"Right,  sar." 

"Now  drop  again." 

Down  went  Bobby,  and  this  time  he  found  that  he 
could  walk. 

"Hyar  we  is,  in  full  marching  order,  Cap'en  Morgan," 
said  Bobby,  marching  along  with  extravagant  military 
strides. 

"Quiet,   Bobby,"   whispered   Morgan,    in   a   voice   of 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TX  ALIA .  65 

alarm ;  "  you'll  put  them  on  to  us  with  their  dogs,  and 
if  you  do,  you'll  have  all  your  work  to  do  to  get  safe  off. " 

"Tinker  Bobby  eat  the  dogs  widout  no  salt,"  said  the 
black  boy. 

"Don't  you  learn  to  brag,  Bobby, "said  Captain  Mor- 
gan ;  "leave  that  to  your  civilized  Italian  friends  ;  they 
can  brag  enough  for  all  of  us.  Let  us  be  quick. " 

Now  the  prudence  of  this  prompt  movement  was  soon 
shown,  for  barely  had  they  got  thirty  yards  along  the 
opposite  bank,  when  they  perceived  a  number  of  horse- 
men advancing  cautiously  in  single  file,  with  one  of  their 
number  as  outrider  far  in  advance  of  the  rest. 

A  blackbird's  call  was  heard  and  the  party  halted. 

"Tooey  whoo !  " 

"Halt!" 

"Morgan  !" 

"So  stand  and  give  the  countersign,"  called  a  deep 
bass  voice. 

"Morgan  it  is,"  returned  the  chief  of  the  bushrangers. 
"Advance,  Forster." 

"Here,  sir." 

"Any  news  ?" 

' '  None,  captain. " 

" The  party  is  here  close  by, "said  Morgan.  "I  hur- 
ried on  to  put  you  up  to  their  movements.  Be  careful, 
Forster,  for  they  keep  the  most  lively  watch,  and  hark  !  " 

"What's  that?" 

The  alarm  was  heard  in  the  camp  of  the  Harkaways. 

A  shrill  note,  blown  upon  a  whistle,  followed  by  the 
deep  baying  of  dogs,  and  a  general  bustle. 

Morgan  began  to  look  concerned  at  this. 

"Quick!"  he  exclaimed;  "into  your  saddles  every 
man  Jack  of  you.  I  would  not  risk  an  encounter  for 
worlds.  Not  only  are  they  stronger  than  we  are,  but  it 
would  assuredly  risk  our  chance  of  a  much  bigger  prize 
than  any  we  now  hold." 

"  I  vote  that  we  turn  and  fight  them  !  "  exclaimed  Toro. 

The  bushranger  veered  round,  and  faced  the  speaker. 

"Who  gave  you  permission  to  vote?  "he  demanded 
fiercely.  "Into  your  saddle,  man,  or  I'll  blow  your 
brains  out. 

That  handy  rifle  of  the  bushranger  chief  covered  the 
Italian  once  more. 


66  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

Toro  had  found  more  than  his  match  on  this  occasion. 

Morgan  was  equally  fierce,  and  a  clever  tactician  to 
boot. 

Toro  rode  quietly  off. 

"Where  is  Tinker  Bobby  ?"  suddenly  whispered  Mor- 
gan. 

Where,  indeed  ?     No  one  knew. 

Bobby  was  nowhere  visible. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

A    DROLL    HUNT — FROM    GAY   TO    GRAVE THE    ALLIGATOR    AND 

THE    BLACK    BOY SAVED    BY   A    HAIR. 

THE  alarm  in  the  Harkaway  camp  grew  general. 
"I    think  there  is  really  something  up  yonder,"  said 
Jefferson,  coming  up  to  the  spot  where  Harvey  and  old 
Jack  stood  conversing  in  whispers. 

'  What  makes  you  suppose  so,  Jefferson  ?  " 
'  The  animals  are  so  precious  uneasy. " 
'The  dogs?" 

'  Yes,"  said  Jefferson  ;  "  and  Nero  too." 
'Nero?" 
'Yes." 

'  Does  Nero  know  when  there  is  danger  near? " 
'You  seem  to  laugh,  Harkaway, "said  Jefferson,  "but 
the  fact  is,  I  have  frequently  observed  that  Nero  was  an 
uncommon  good  danger  barometer." 
Jack  laughed. 

"A  capital  simile,  Jefferson,"  he  said,  "but  we  must 
get  on  after  my  rash  boy,  or  he'll  be  getting  into  some 
mischief. " 

In  Morgan  and  his  bushrangers  the  Harkaways  had  a 
far  more  dangerous  enemy  to  cope  with  than  any  they 
had  known  before,  in  Italy  or  elsewhere. 

These  were  men  of  shrewdness — of  rare  cunning  and 
daring  to  wit. 

Young  Jack  brought  along  the  two  bloodhounds 
coupled,  and  after  sniffing  about  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  they  suddenly  bobbed  down  to  the  ground,  and 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  67 

with  a  grunt  of  satisfaction,  trotted  along  at  a  sweeping 
jog-trot  pace. 

"  Look,  Jack,"  ejaculated  Harry  Girdwood,  "  they  have 
struck  the  trail." 

"Rather." 

They  followed  the  hounds  at  a  trot  for  a  considerable 
distance. 

Suddenly  the  bloodhounds  drew  up  short  upon  the 
river  bank. 

They  sniffed  about  and  ran  backwards  and  forwards, 
whining  piteously. 

"At  fault?" 

"Yes,"  said  Harry  Girdwood,  "the  trace  is  gone 
here. " 

The  words  were  barely  uttered  when  the  speaker  gave 
his  companion  a  sudden  nudge  with  his  elbow. 

"Well,  old  boy,  what  is  it?" 

' '  In  the  river.     Look  !  " 

They  saw  a  human  being  breasting  the  surface,  and 
striking  out  for  the  opposite  bank. 

Young  Jack  brought  his  rifle  up  to  his  shoulder,  and 
took  a  careful  aim. 

"  Stop,  Jack  ;  don't  fire  ;  perhaps  it  is  no  enemy." 

"What  does  he  do  here  lurking  about?" 

"Stop." 

"Send  the  dogs  after  him,"  suggested  young  Hark- 
away. 

This  was  done  at  once. 

The  hounds  were  uncoupled. 

"  See,  boy  ;  there  they  go.     Look,  boy  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

He  pointed  out  the  swimmer,  and  the  dogs,  with  a 
snappy  sort  of  bark,  leapt  into  the  water. 

They  made  for  him  as  fast  as  they  were  able. 

But  the  swimmer  shot  through  the  water. 

Then  something  appeared  to  alarm  him,  and  he  stopped 
short  suddenly. 

He  turned  round,  and  swam  a  little  way  along  the  river. 

"  We  shall  lose  him  yet,"  said  Harry  Girdwood. 

"  Not  if  I  know  it,"  said  young  Jack. 

He  looked  to  the  knife  in  his  belt,  and,  heedless  of  all 
consequences,  leapt  into  the  river. 

"Jack,  Jack,  old  boy,"  cried  Harry,  "come  back  1" 

"  No  no  !  "  shouted  Jack,  "  I  will  see  what  this  means.  * 


68  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"Then  I  will  follow  you, "cried  Harry,  and  he  dropped 
his  rifle,  and  took  a  long  spring. 

He  dived  rather  deeper  than  he  meant  to. 

When  he  reached  the  surface,  he  saw  young  Jack 
striking  out  with  long  and  vigorous  strokes  towards  the 
swimmer. 

At  every  stroke  they  were  overhauling  him  fast. 

As  young  Jack  neared  the  object  of  their  pursuit,  the 
moon,  temporarily  obscured  by  a  cloud,  shone  forth,  and 
then  both  he  and  Harry  Girdwood  saw  that  it  was  a  black 
boy. 

It  was  Tinker  Bobby. 

Now  poor  Tinker  was  in  a  sore  predicament 

He  was  pursued  by  two  enemies  plus  two  fierce  dogs, 
who  were  more  dangerous  enemies  than  the  boys  who 
led  the  chase. 

Tinker  looked  around. 

The  magnitude  of  his  danger  lent  him  wings,  and  he 
made  a  vigorous  stroke  for  the  shore. 

But  young  Harkaway  was  already  there. 

Up  Tinker  scrambled. 

But  before  he  could  fairly  gain  his  feet,  young  Jack 
pounced  upon  him,  toppled  him  over,  and  knelt  upon  his 
chest. 

Tinker  was  so  blown  with  fright,  and  by  his  exertions 
to  escape,  that  he  could  no  longer  struggle. 

He  panted  and  puffed. 

And  at  length  he  managed  to  articulate  with  great  diffi- 
culty these  characteristic  words — 

"Tinker's  considerable  bery  much  dam  tired." 

Young  Jack  would  have  laughed  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances. 

But  he  was  too  preoccupied  now. 

Where  was  Harry  ? 

Before  he  could  look  round,  the  black  boy  muttered  a 
word  or  two,  which  thrilled  young  Jack  strongly. 

' '  Where's  de  shark  ?  " 

Shark  ! 

"  Whoever  heard  of  a  shark  up  a  river  like  this  ? " 

Before  he  could  make  any  further  inquiry  into  the  sub- 
ject, a  fearful  yelp  from  one  of  the  dogs  caught  his  ear. 

And  then  he  saw,  in  a  faint,  confused  manner,  som» 
thing  which  he  never  forgot  to  his  dying  day. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TR ALIA.  69 

The  first  of  the  dogs  which  had  leapt  into  the  water 
was  seized  in  the  terrific  jaws  of  a  hideous-looking 
monster. 

This  was  Tinker's  shark. 

It  was  a  kind  of  caiman,  or  alligator. 

And  this  was  what  had  so  frightened  the  unfortunate 
black  boy. 

But  for  the  encounter  with  this  ugly  wretch,  Tinker 
would  have  got  clean  off  beyond  all  manner  of  doubt. 

Young  Jack  got  an  awful  startler  then. 

He  never  thought  of  the  prisoner,  but  with  cold  drops 
of  perspiration  trickling  down  his  back,  he  looked  about 
for  his  brave  comrade,  Harry  Girdwood. 

He  was  climbing  up  the  river's  bank. 

The  unfortunate  hound  quivered  awhile  in  the  monster's 
jaws. 

Then  it  was  all  over. 

The  alligator  took  him  down  as  comfortably  as  though 
he  had  been  a  pill. 

The  second  dog  scrambled  up  the  bank,  and  shook  the 
water  from  his  coat,  blissfully  ignorant  of  the  fatal  acci- 
dent which  had  befallen  his  companion. 

"  Harry." 

"Jack." 

"All  right,  all  right,  old  chum."      . 

They  whistled  to  the  hound  which  had  luckily  escaped, 
and  when  it  came  up,  they  put  it  upon  guard  over  Tinker, 
while  they  looked  about  them. 

"That's  an  awkward  job,  Jack,"  said  Harry  Girdwood. 

' '  What  a  narrow  escape  !  " 

"Ugh!" 

They  now  saw  lights  dancing  about  upon  the  opposite 
bank  of  the  river,  and  rightly  judging  that  it  was  some  of 
the  party  signalling  them,  they  gave  a  yell  together  across 
the  water. 

It  was  too  dark,  and  the  distance  was  too  great  for 
them  to  see  distinctly. 

But  they  recognised  voices,  and  this  was  sufficient  to 
make  them  easy  in  their  minds. 

Just  then  came  a  well-known  voice  across  the  water. 

"  Jack,  my  boy  !  " 

"Dad." 

"  Are  you  safe?" 


7  o  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"Safe  and  sound,  dad,"  replied  young  Harkaway  to  his 
father. 

"Where's  Harry?" 

"Here." 

"  Right?" 

"Quite  right,  dad,"  shouted  our  young  hero.  "All 
safe,  and  we've  bagged  some  black  game. " 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  the  boys. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  shouted  several  voices  over  the  water. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

GAME — A    CRUEL    JOKE — TINKER    AND    MOLE — A    BAD    OMEN 
FOR  POOR  ISAAC. 

MOLE  was  of  the  party. 

"Game?"  said  the  worthy  old  epicure,  smacking  his 
lips  ;  "  I  hope  it's  a  turtle." 

"Why  don't  you  come  back?"  shouted  Jefferson,  to 
the  boys. 

"They're  making  the  game  safe  and  snug,  perhaps," 
said  Harvey. 

Mr.  Mole  took  alarm. 

"Don't  frighten  them.  Let  them  take  their  time. 
Don't  bruise  the  turtle,  Jack,"  he  added,  raising  his  voice, 
"  or  you'll  spoil  the  soup." 

"Turtle  be  bio  wed,"  said  Harvey,  contemptuously. 

The  boys  were  still  lingering  on  the  river's  bank. 

The  alligator's  maw  did  not  appear  altogether  satisfied 
with  the  morsel  he  had  just  swallowed. 

There  he  was  playing  about  in  their  quarter,  looking 
longingly  up  the  bank  at  them  like  another  Oliver  Twist 
mutely  asking  for  more. 

The  second  dog  was  apparently  frightened  out  of  its 
wits  by  the  presence  of  the  hideous  reptile,  and  it  paddled 
about,  whining  in  distress,  until  Jefferson  perceived  it, 
and  whistled  it  up  the  river's  bank. 

The  noise  of  the  hound  attracted  the  monster's  atten- 
tion, and  he  left  the  bank  where  the  boys  stood,  and  shot 
through  the  water  after  it. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  7 1 

•'  Now's  our  time,"  cried  Harry  Girdwood  ;  '•  over  we 
must  get,  so  over  we  go." 

But  this  was  not  only  attended  with  difficulty  to  them- 
selves, for  the  prisoner  would  not  move  in  spite  of  all 
their  persuasions. 

"Over  with  you,"  said  young  Jack,  with  an  admoni- 
tory kick. 

"Not  dis  infant,"  responded  Tinker.  "No  like  de 
shark  'nuff. " 

"  Get  on." 

"Choke  you,  if  you  don't,"  threatened  Harry  Girdwood. 

"Bery  good,  sar,"  responded  Tinker.  "  Choke  away, 
sar.  Choking  bery  much  gooder  dan  de  offal,  confounded, 
immense,  big  shark." 

"We  are  going  too,"  said  young  Jack.  "And  we're 
going  to  kill  master  alligator." 

"  Tinker's  dere  den,  sar,"  ejaculated  Tinker,  springing 
forward.  "Like  exceedingly  bery  much,  sar,  to  have  a 
slice  of  the  navigator." 

"  Navigator,"  quoth  young  Jack  ;  "alligator  I  said." 

"I  means  nabigator,"  said  the  black  boy,  blissfully 
ignorant  of  the  reason  of  this. 

In  he  plunged. 

Harry  Girdwood  and  young  Jack  dived  after  him. 

They  breasted  the  water  simultaneously,  and  having, 
with  their  dive,  shot  half-way  over  the  river,  they  were 
precious  soon  scrambling  up  the  bank  opposite. 

The  monster,  whatever  it  might  be,  for  it  certainly  was 
not  an  alligator,  turned  from  the  dog  which  it  had  been 
watching  so  earnestly,  and  darted  through  the  water  after 
them. 

Just  too  late. 

The  beast  had  been  pretty  sure  of  the  bloodhound,  and 
a  savoury  morsel  it  would  have  made  for  him. 

But  he  preferred  the  look  of  the  boys,  and  so  he  lost  all 
at  once. 

But  he  scrambled  up  the  slippery  bank  after  them,  lash- 
ing the  water  with  his  tail  as  he  quitted  the  stream. 

"Dad,  dad,"  cried  young  Jack. 

The  Harkaway  party  were  all  there. 

They  had  their  rifles  ready,  and  fired. 

But  the  bullets  glanced  over  its  horny  hide  without 
doing  any  damage. 


J2  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AXD  HIS  SOWS 

Jefferson's  experience  was  useful  now. 

He  had  tackled  this  kind  of  game  before,  and  he  knew 
well  its  only  vulnerable  spot. 

A  bullet  in  the  eye  decided  the  business. 

The  beast  snorted  and  writhed  a  bit,  while  its  huge  tail 
lashed  the  ground,  and  then  it  dropped  aside,  dead. 

"  A  good-sized  turtle,  Mr.  Mole,"  suggested  Dick  slily. 
"Capital  soup  it  will  make." 

"  Why,  what  can  it  be  ?  "  exclaimed  the  old  gentleman, 
returning. 

"  What  do  you  think  it  looks  like  ?  "  asked  Jefferson. 

"I  can't  say,"  said  Mr.  Mole. 

"Do  you  think  it  looks  like  an  alligator?  " 

Mr.  Mole  rubbed  his  chin  thoughtfully. 

"Yes,  but  it  can't  be  one.  There  are  none  in  these 
parts." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  never  read  of  any  animals  of  this  breed  or  family 
being  seen  in  southern  Australia." 

"Which  only  proves,  perhaps,  that  the  country  has  not 
yet  been  explored  far  enough.  No  doubt  they  would  keep 
far  inland." 

"Don't  talk  rubbish." 

"Very  good,"  returned  Jefferson,  gently.  "I  won't. 
Since  you  don't  believe,  just  come  a  little  nearer  and  see 
for  yourself. " 

Saying  which,  he  slipped  his  arm  through  Mole's  and 
lifted  him  along  for  some  distance  towards  the  vanquished 
reptile.  Mr.  Mole  looked- alarmed. 

There  was  never,  perhaps,  such  a  lad  to  enjoy  fun  as  the 
newly-made  prisoner,  the  black  boy,  Tinker. 

He  quite  forgot  that  he  was  in  trouble  when  there  was 
a  chance  of  fun. 

He  believed  their  prey  was  dead,  so  he  bounded  forward 
and  leapt  suddenly  upon  its  back  with  a  wild  cry. 

"Wa-hoo  !  "  yelled  Tinker,  as  he  leaped  on  the  beast. 

Up  went  the  dead  reptile's  tail  with  a  jerk  that  almost 
made  it  flick  poor  Mole's  nose  off.  The  valiant  Isaac 
jumped  back  as  though  he  had  been  shot. 

"Oh,  mercy  !  "  he  yelled,  and  off  he  flew. 

"Wa-hoo,  funny  old  man  !  "  cried  Tinker,  and  the  young 
miscreant  laughed  until  he  rolled  upon  the  ground,  hold- 
ing his  sides. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  73 

"Get  up,"  said  young  Jack,  who  was  enjoying  it  all 
wonderfully. 

"  Yes,  massa,"  said  Tinker,  bounding  up  like  an  India- 
rubber  ball. 

"What  are  you  laughing  at  that  gentleman  for  ?  " 

"  Yah,  yah!" 

"  Do  you  hear  me,  sir?"  exclaimed  young  Jack,  with 
assumed  severity. 

"Yes,  sar,"  answered  Tinker,  vainly  endeavouring  to 
suppress  his  mirth  before  his  new  master.  "Oleman 
jumping  on  two  bits  o'  wood,  am  so  exceedinest  dam 
ridickerous,  yah,  yah,  yah  !  " 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  " 

Tinker's  laugh  was  infectious,  and  it  went  all  round. 

"Well,"  said  Jefferson,  "  poor  old  Mole  had  enough  to 
do  to  hold  his  own  up  till  the  present,  but  he'll  have  all 
his  work  cut  out  now,  it  strikes  me." 

"Rather." 

"  Why,  this  young  sweep,"  said  Harkaway,  joining  the 
group,  "appears  rather  worse  than  any  one  of  you.  It  is 
certainly  a  fresh  torment  for  Mole." 

"Poor  Mole!" 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

STARTLING  NEWS FOREWARNED,  FOREARMED ON  THE  WATCH 

SENTINELS  QUADRUPED    AND  BIPED THE    END  OF   THE  TRAVEL 

THE  NEW    SETTLEMENT ITS  CHRISTENING. 

"WHAT'S  your  name  ?" 

"Tinker." 

"  Who  gave  you  that  name  ?  " 

"  Captain  Morgan." 

"What!"  cried  young  Jack  and  Harry.  "Morgan 
the  bushranger  ? " 

"Yes,  sar,  captain  bold  man." 

Young  Jack  and  Harry  Girdwood  were  the  questioners. 

"  Morgan  had  to  serve  him  for  godfather  and  godmother, 
as  well,"  said  the  latter  with  a  grin. 

"Yes,  but  Tinker  isn't  a  bad  name,"  said  young  Jack. 

"Tinker  am  a  lubly  name,"  said  the  owner  of  it, 
modestly. 


74  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"Quite  so,"  said  young  Jack,  "and  how  long  have  you 
been  with  Captain  Morgan,  Tinker?  " 

The  boy  thought  awhile.  » 

"Eberso  long,  sar  ;  immense,  bery  long,  sar. " 

"A  year — two  years ? " 

"No,  sar.  One,  four,  five  moons,  sar.  All  dat  time 
wid  Cap'en  Morgan,  sar,  Captain  Morgan  and  Massa 
Forster,  sar." 

"Forster?" 

"Yes,  sar." 

"Who's  he?" 

"Massa  Forster  am  friend  ob  Cap'en  Morgan,  sar." 

The  boys  began  to  open  their  eyes  and  ears  both. 

"Perhaps  dad  had  better  know  about  this,  Harry,  "said 
young  Jack  ;  "it  is  important." 

"  Keep  him  talking  while  I  fetch  them,"  said  Harry. 

"  Do  you  like  Forster,  Tinker  ? "  demanded  young  Jack. 

The  boy  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  um  kick  Tinker.  Massa  Forster  am  a  consider- 
able beast,  sar. " 

Young  Jack  was  on  the  grin  at  this,  when  Harkaway 
and  Harvey  came  up. 

"What  does  this  Mr.  Forster  do?"  asked  young  Jack, 
giving  his  father  a  side  glance  of  significance. 

"He  tell  de  oders  what  to  do  when  de  Cap'en  Morgan 
am  out  ob  de  way." 

"Oh,  I  see,"  said  Harry  Girdwood,  "he's  what  they 
call  the  lieutenant,  I  suppose  ? " 

"De  what?" 

"  Lieutenant." 

Tinker's  eyes  glistened  intelligently. 

"Yes,  sar,  dat 's  it.  How  do  you  know  dat?  Tinker 
neber  tell  yer." 

"  I  know  very  well,"  said  Harry. 

"So  Mr.  Forster  is  the  lieutenant  ?" 

"Yes,  sar,  left-tenant,  dat's  it,  and  Cap'en  Morgan  am 
de  right-tenant,  yah,  yah  !  " 

Tinker's  very  small  joke  caused  a  laugh  all  round. 

"And  what  did  you  do  while  you  were  with  them  ?  " 
demanded  Harkaway. 

Tinker  at  once  grew  serious. 

As  he  was  silent,  they  pressed  the  question. 

"  Me  no  tell  you." 


ADVENTURES  W  AUSTRALIA.  75 

"Why  not?" 

"  You  get  considerable  dam  mad  wid  this  poor  Tinker 
You  kill  him." 

•"No,  we  shall  not,  Tinker,"  said  Harkaway,  kindly  ; 
"we  shall  not  treat  you  a  bit  the  worse." 

Tinker  looked  at  the  speaker  earnestly. 

"Sartin?" 

"  Sartin,"  responded  old  Jack,  grinning. 

The  black  boy  was  apparently  reassured  by  Harkaway 's 
manner. 

"  Tinker  had  to  look  after  you,  all  your  carts  and  'osses 
an'  sich." 

The  listeners  exchanged  sharp  glances  of  intelligence 
together. 

This  told  a  whole  tale. 

"  Are  they  watching  us,  Tinker?  Don't  be  afraid  to 
answer.  We  shall  trust  you  all  the  better  if  you  are 
frank — I  mean  if  you  tell  us  all  the  truth." 

"You  no  tell  Cap'en  Morgan,  den  ? "  he  said,  doubtfully. 

"No,  no." 

"  He  kick  and  kill  poor  Tinker  if  you  do,  when  I  go 
back  to  him." 

"  I  bet  you  never  go  back,"  said  young  Jack  ;  "if  you 
are  good  and  faithful  to  us,  you  shall  stay  with  us  and  have 
a  nice  place  to  sleep  in. " 

"  And  niceys  to  eat  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Me  neber  leave  you,"  exclaimed  Tinker,  heartily. 

"  That's  right ;  and  so  you  had  to  spy  after  us?  " 

Tinker  nodded. 

"Why  you  ?" 

"'Case  Tinker  get  on  without  making  ob  no  noise. 
'Case  Massa  Forstersays  Tinker's  got  such  a  deblish  black 
carcase  dat  de  sharp-eye  ole  'Arkaway  neber  see  him." 

"  Oh,"  said  old  Jack,  "  that's  it,  is  it  ?  " 
'  Yes,  sar. " 

'So  you   have  been   following  us  all  the  way  from 
Sydney?" 

Yes,  sar." 
What  for  ?  " 

"  To  try  and  catch  all  de  niceys  you  got,  sar." 

"  Very  good,  very  good,"  said  Harkaway,  with  a  sly 
chuckle;  "  forewarned,  forearmed.  If  they  get  their  claws 


•j6  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

on  our  niceys,  as  you  call  them,  Tinker,  I'll  give  them 
leave  to  keep  therm." 

"  If  dey  get  'em,  sar,  dey  keep  'em,  and  no  axe  your 
leave." 

"  Bravo,  Tinker  !  "  laughed  young  Jack.  "You're  not 
such  a  fool  as  you  look." 

"No,  sar;  more  nor  you,  sar;  not  such  a  fool  as  you 
look. " 

"Now,  I  suppose,  Tinker,  that  if  we  had  got  on  a  bit 
sharper,  we  should  have  caught  some  more  of  them  as 
well  as  you?" 

"Yes,  sar;  on'y  dey  got  'osses,  and  dey  got  guns. 
Dey  shoot  de  dogs,  sar." 

"Shoot  the  dogs  !  " 

"Yes  ;  dey  no  like  dogs  ;  Massa  Forster  says  de  'fernal 
dogs  spile  eberyting  ;  else  he  bag — bag  your  missus — he 
bag  all  de  bressed  bilin'.  Dat's  what  Massa  Forster  say." 

The  listeners  looked  more  and  more  serious,  as  word 
after  word  fell  from  the  black  boy. 

It  revealed  a  plot  against  them  of  a  very  serious  nature 
— their  lives  were  at  stake. 

Constant   vigilance   was  the  only  thing  which   could 

save  them  from  death. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

'Jack." 
'Yes,  dad." 

'  I  leave  Tinker  to  your  charge." 
'Very  good,  dad." 

'  Be  careful.     Never  lose  sight  of  him.     It  is  the  most 
lucky  hit  you  ever  made  in  your  life,  to  have  got  hold  of 
him,  for  this  has  probably  saved  us  from  a  deadly  peril." 
"  You  may  rely  upon  me,  dad,"  returned  young  Jack. 
From  that  moment  Tinker  was  ever  in  the  presence  of 
young  Jack,  or  of  his  comrade,  Harry  Girdwood. 

That  night,  before  they  ventured  to  retire  to  rest,  they 
went  the  round  of  the  camp,  to  post  fresh  sentries,  and 
leave  all  secure. 

Everybody,  and,  in  fact,  every  thing,  was  used  to  ensure 
their  complete  safety. 

The  two  boys  accompanied  Harkaway  on  his  rounds, 
and  consequently  Tinker  was  of  the  party  likewise. 

The  bloodhounds  were  brought  out  by  Sunday,  and 
posted  singly  at  different  places. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


77 


In  order  to  guarantee  against  their  straying  in  the  still 
hours  of  night,  a  stout  stake  was  fixed  firmly  in  the 
ground,  and  a  good  long  tether  allowed  to  each. 

The  dogs  growled  a  good  dead  at  the  black  boy  at  first. 

But  they  were  quite  pacified  when  they  saw  young 
Jack  take  his  prisoner  by  the  hand  in  a  friendly  way. 

Then  they  smelt  him  about,  and  finally  accepted  a 
caress  from  him,  which  was  given  at  old  Jack's  instiga- 
tion. 

"Good  dog,"  said  Tinker,  eyeing  him  doubtfully  all 
the  while  ;  "  not  eat  dat." 

"What?" 

Tinker  pointed  to  something  on  the  ground,  which 
appeared  to  be  exciting  the  attention  of  the  hounds. 

They  looked  closer,  and  found  that  it  was  a  piece  of 
meat,  apparently  a  morsel  of  freshly-killed  beef. 

"Where  did  that  come  from  ?"  said  old  Jack,  in  some 
surprise. 

Tinker  laughed. 

"I  put  it  dere,  sar,"  he  said,  "special  for  dogs,  sar." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  Tinker?"  demanded 
Harkaway. 

"Massa  Forster,  he  tell  me,  sar,  to  put  it  down  for 
dogs,  sar,"  replied  Tinker,  "an'  he  put  suffin'  nicey, 
nicey  on  it  for  dogs,  sar  ;  make  um  sleep,  sar,  so  as  dey 
neber  wake  up." 

"  Poison  !  "  ejaculated  Harkaway,  aghast,  "poison  !  " 

"Yes,  sar  ;  make  dogs  sleep  for  eber. " 

Every  instant  showed  them  some  fresh  symptoms 
more  alarming  than  what  had  gone  before. 

"We  were  just  in  time,"  said  Harkaway,  savagely; 
"only  just.  Little  did  we  think  of  this  great  danger 
which  was  overhanging  us  the  whole  time." 

The  dogs  were  placed  at  three  most  dangerous  posts. 

Two  were  so  tethered  that  they  commanded  the  thickly- 
wooded  place  upon  their  left. 

The  third  dog  was  left  to  guard  the  opposite  end  of  the 
camp. 

Young  Jack  kept  Tinker  at  his  heels  the  whole  time. 

In  addition  to  these  precautions,  they  observed  one 
very  valuable  rule. 

A  guard  was  mounted,  and  marchsd  from  post  to  post 
throughout  the  night. 


78  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

Thus  they  avoided  one  very  serious  danger. 
No  more  poisoned  meat  could  be  placed  within  reach 
of  their  faithful  four-footed  sentinels. 
At  length  the  camp  was  reached. 
All  was  stilL 

All  slept 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

Bang! 

The  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle. 

What  was  that  ? 

Jefferson  was  on  his  feet,  rifle  in  hand,  in  a  moment. 

Racing  up  to  the  place  where  Sunday  was  on  guard, 
he  found  that  vigilant  sentry  in  the  act  of  reloading. 

"I  see  some  thing  dodging  about  over  thar,"  said 
Sunday,  "some  skunk  on  the  off-smell,  so  I  dropped 
him  a  pill" 

"Did  you  hit  him?"  demanded  Jefferson. 

"Can't  say  that  for  sure,"  said  Sunday.  "I  tried  hard 
to  ;  that's  all  I  know." 

The  dogs  barked. 

The  camp  was  all  alive. 

Harkaway  and  Dick  ran  up,  rifle  in  hand,  and  in  a 
trice  they  were  followed  by  the  youths  and  the  black  boy 
prisoner. 

But  it  all  came  to  nothing  more  serious  than  this. 

One  of  Morgan's  gang  had  probably  been  loafing  about, 
hoping  to  pick  up  some  news  or  information  to  take  to 
his  leader,  and  venturing  too  near,  had  served  as  a  mark 
for  Sunday's  rifle. 

Sunday  was  a  capital  shot  by  this  time,  and  if  he  did 
not  hit  his  man,  it  must  have  been  uncomfortably  near. 

The  guard  was  changed. 

When  this  was  done,  the  camp  was  left  in  peace  and 
undisturbed  tranquillity  till  morning. 


Whether  Morgan  and  his  band  had  taken  alarm  at  the 
decided  attitude  of  the  party  on  the  march,  or  whether 
it  was  that  they  had  found  occupation  more  profitable, 
we  are  not  in  a  position  at  present  to  decide. 

One  thing  is  certain. 

Harkaway  and  his  friends  were  left  to.pursue  their  way 
unmolested  from  this  night. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


79 


After  a  long  and  somewhat  weary  pilgrimage  they 
arrived  at  their  destination. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

"  Here  we  make  our  final  pitch,"  said  old  Jack,  plant- 
ing a  flagstaff  in  the  soft,  springy  turf.  "  Here  we  must 
start  our  new  settlement." 

"  What  name  shall  it  bear?  "  demanded  Dick  Harvey. 

"Don't  christen  it  after  me,  my  friends,"  implored  the 
modest  Mole. 

"  No,  we  will  not,"  said  Jefferson,  laughingly  ;  "  much 
as  you  deserve  it.  Our  new  settlement  shall  be  called 
'  Harkaway  ! ' ' 

A  ringing  cheer  greeted  this  proposition. 

And  by  that  familiar  title  is  this  now  flourishing  settle- 
ment known  until  this  present  moment  of  writing. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
HUNSTON'S    ADVENTURES — "OUT    OF    THE — TREE — INTO    THE 

FIRE  " A  LUCKY  CHANCE — THE  FIRE-GOD WHO  IS  BLOONA?— 

THE  MAKE-FIRE — HOW  THE  MECHANICAL    ARM    DID  HUNSTON  A 
GOOD  TURN. 

HAS  the  reader  forgotten  Hunston  all  this  while? 
Surely  not. 

It  should  be  fresh  in  the  reader's  mind  that  the  wretched 
man,  after  travelling  for  weary  miles  through  a  desert 
waste  of  country  which  had  been  seemingly  untrodden 
by  the  foot  of  man,  had,  when  he  least  expected  it, 
come  upon  a  tribe  of  his  fellow-creatures,  whose  appear- 
ance was  any  thing  but  reassuring. 

A  tribe  of  the  Australian  aborigines. 

Upon  their  approach  Hunston  climbed  a  tree. 

The  savages,  with  many  a  wild  cry,  and  with  much 
noise  and  discord,  marched  up  to  the  very  spot,  and 
encamped  beneath  the  tree. 

Here  it  was  we  left  him. 

He  sat  upon  his  perch,  and  shivered. 

Not  from  cold. 

Oh,  no. 


8o  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

He  trembled  with  fright  alone. 

The  aspect  of  these  people  was  enough  to  alarm  any- 
one. 

They  were  the  most  hideous-looking  members  of  the 
human  race  that  you  could  look  upon,  and  their  ugliness 
was  increased  by  the  filthy  paints  with  which  their  faces 
and  their  bodies  were  smeared. 

The  women  got  some  dried  twigs  together,  and  a 
handful  of  yellow  grass,  with  which  they  made  a  fire. 

But  as  there  was  not  the  faintest  breath  of  air  stirring, 
the  thick  smoke  from  the  fire  arose  in  a  cloud  so  dense, 
that  Hunston  was  in  danger  of  suffocating. 

He  dare  not  cough. 

Yet  the  desire  to  do  so  was  irresistible. 

He  was  strangling. 

He  grew  purple  in  the  face. 

His  eyes  grew  dim. 

With  a  gurgle  or  gasp  he  swayed  to  and  tro  upon  his 
branch,  and  feeling  his  danger,  he  threw  out  his  arms  to 
save  himself,  but  missing  his  hold,  over  he  swayed,  and 
fell  plump  into  the  middle  of  the  fire. 

"Wa-hoo!" 

The  burning  brands  and  twigs  were  disseminated 
amongst  the  assembly  generally. 

The  first  yell  that  burst  from  the  savages  was  the 
signal  for  them  to  start  back  and  seize  their  war-clubs. 

' '  Wa-hoo  !  " 

Hunston  was  momentarily  stunned. 

But  soon  recovering  himself,  he  jumped  up  and  shook 
himself  free  from  the  burning  twigs,  and  looked  about 
him. 

"Wa-hoo!" 

This  time  "  Wa-hoo  "  meant  something  more  than  a 
mere  empty  cry  or  a  savage  yell,  for  the  man  that  gave  it 
sent  a  heavy  missile  at  Hunston,  which  floored  him. 

They  rushed  upon  him  with  the  wildest  and  most  alarm- 
ing sounds,  and  seized  him. 

Hunston  closed  his  eyes. 

He  thought  nothing  could  save  him  now. 

One  of  the  women  gave  a  shrill  cry,  which  sounded 
like  caree-ki  to  him,  not  that  he  had  the  remotest  idea 
what  caree-ki  could  mean,  and  thrust  a  burning  brand 
upon  his  cheek. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TRALIA.  8 1 

"  Hah ! " 

"You  she-devil !  "  yelled  Hunston. 

He  jerked  himself  under  this  torture,  and  gave  the 
woman  one  terrific  smack  that  floored  her. 

He  got  a  good  deal  mauled  then,  and  it  would  have 
gone  even  harder  with  him  had  not  one  of  the  savages, 
who  appeared  to  be  a  man  in  authority,  interfered  on  his 
behalf. 

It  was  not  humanity  that  prompted  this  interference. 

The  reason  was  that  this  chief,  being  a  little  more 
intelligent  than  his  fellows,  felt  his  curiosity  aroused  by 
Hunston's  singular  entrance  upon  the  scene. 

"  You  talk  white  man's  tongue,"  said  he  ;  "  me  talkee 
too. " 

Hunston  seized  upon  this  chance  with  great  avidity. 

"You  are  chief? " 

"Yes." 

"Then  tell  your  people  that  they  do  wrong  to  harm 
me.  I  do  not  hurt  them — I  may  do  you  good  if  you 
will  let  me. " 

"Good." 

Then  followed  a  consultation  between  the  savages,  of 
which,  of  course,  Hunston  could  not  understand  one 
single  word. 

Apparently  he  convinced  them,  however. 

"  Where  you  come  ?  " 

"  Up  there,"  replied  Hunston,  pointing  to  his  late 
perch. 

"  Good.     My  people  think  you  are  a  bad  spirit." 

And  here  the  chief  gave  a  slight  chuckle,  which  showed 
that  he  was  not  altogether  devoid  of  intelligence. 

Hunston  had  a  lucky  inspiration  at  this. 

"Not  a  bad  spirit,"  said  he.  "I  am  a  good  spirit.  I 
come  to  serve  you,  and  them  too." 

The  chief  turned  serious  at  once  upon  hearing  this. 

"Good  spirit  ? "  said  he. 

"Yes." 

"What  spirit?" 

Hunston  looked  about  him. 

"  Fire-god.  You  lit  your  altar-fire  there,  and  it  called 
me  down." 

"What  for?" 

"To  serve  you." 
6 


82  JA  CJC  HA  RICA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

' '  Where  you  come  from  then  ?  " 

"The  sky?" 

"  Where  Bloona  come  from? " 

Hunston  had  not  the  remotest  idea  what  was  meant. 

But  it  was  neck  or  nothing  now. 

"Yes." 

This  the  chief  communicated  to  his  people. 

An  animated  discussion  took  place,  the  issue  of  which 
was  awaited  by  Hunston  with  considerable  anxiety. 

The  savage  chief  turned  to  him  with  a  serious  air. 

"  You  no  fire-god." 

"  What  mean  you  ?  " 

"If  you  fire-god,"  said  the  savage,  sternly,  " de  fire  no 
burn  you." 

"It  does  not  burn  me,"  returned  Hunston,  boldly. 

"Look!" 

The  savage  touched  him  upon  the  burnt  cheek,  from 
which  the  scathed  flesh  was  now  peeling. 

"Oh!" 

He  winced. 

But  he  pulled  himself  together. 

"On  the  face,"  he  said,  promptly,  "  yes,  but  not  every 
where.  Fire-god  burn's  on  the  face  only  just  like  you." 

"But  the  body  ?" 

"  No." 

This  was  the  luckiest  thought  Hunston  ever  had. 

His  presence  of  mind  now  saved  his  life. 

• '  See  here. " 

He  took  one  of  the  burning  sticks  by  the  flaming  end  in 
his  mechanical  hand. 

"Good." 

"  Wa-hoo  !  "  cried  the  others. 

"Wa-hoo"  had  to  do  service,  apparently,  for  an  end- 
less variety  of  expressions  in  their  native  tongue. 

"Do  you  see,  O  unbelievers  ?  "  said  Hunston  ;  "  I  can 
with  my  hand  hold  this  fiery  brand  without  hurt." 

' '  Yes,  yes. " 

The  savages  yelled  their  approval  in  deafening  fashion. 

The  self-styled  fire-god  then,  holding  the  burning  brand 
by  the  flaming  end,  transferred  it  to  his  other  hand  by  the 
unburnt  end. 

Then  he  bared  his  arm. 

His  mechanical  arm. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US 'TR ALIA.  83 

"See  here." 

He  rubbed  the  burning-  stick  up  and  down  the  thick 
part  of  the  arm,  and  allowed  it  to  rest  there. 

When  the  savages  saw  this  they  were  filled  with  won- 
derment. 

' '  You  come  from  the  same  place  as  Bloona  ?  "  demanded 
the  chief  again. 

"Who  the  devil's  Bloona,*  I  wonder;"  thought 
Hunston. 

But  he  answered  readily  in  the  affirmative. 

"  My  people  say,"  objected  the  chief,  "  that  you  can't 
be  of  the  same  race  as  Bloona." 
'  Why  ?  " 

'  Because  you  are  white." 
'  And  Bloona  is  black  ?" 
'  Yes.     You  know  Bloona?  " 
'Of  course." 

1  Why  she  black,  then  ?  " 

'  There  are  white  as  well  as  black  upon  earth,  are  there 
not  ?  Why  should  there  not  be  white  and  black  up 
there  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes." 

This  was  seemingly  unanswerable  to  the  chief. 

"You  come  to  do  us  good?  "said  he  to  Hunston, 
presently. 

"If  you  let  me." 

"  You  help  us  catch  lots  of  game? " 

"Yes." 

"You  shoot  with  make-fire?  " 

This  would  not  have  been  very  comprehensible  had 
not  the  savage  shown  his  meaning  by  pantomime. 

He  cocked  his  fingers  into  a  trigger,  and  imitated  the 
firing  of  a  gun. 

' '  Yes, "  answered  Hunston,  ' '  of  course.  Fire-god  does 
every  thing  like  that." 

"Good!  " 

"But  I  have  no  gun." 

"Gun?" 

' '  Make-fire — gun. " 

*  The  reader,  perhaps,  is  asking  the  same  question  but,  we  hope,  in 
more  moderate  language.  Bloona  is  shortly  to  appear  upon  the  scene ; 
meanwhile,  we  may  content  ourselves  with  observing  that  Bloona  is  a 
person  in  whom  the  reader  is  sure  to  take  the  liveliest  interest. 


84  JA  CK  HA  RKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"Ha!     Good!" 

He  ran  off,  and  reappeared  in  a  minute  or  two  with  a 
rifle  and  a  powder-flask,  and  all  kinds  of  modern  appli- 
ances. 

"  Hullo  !  "  exclaimed  the  fire-god  in  surprise,  "  where 
did  this  come  from  ?  " 

"Me  kill  white  man  with  spear  and  take  it  all  away," 
answered  the  chief,  with  pride. 

' '  Humph  !  " 

"Make  fire  now,"  said  the  savage. 

Hunston  at  once  proceeded  to  gratify  them. 

The  savages  crowded  round  him  as  he  loaded  the  rifle. 

They  had  killed  the  owner  of  the  rifle  to  steal  it,  but 
when  they  had  got  the  treasure  it  was  useless  to  them. 

"What  shall  I  shoot?"  said  Hunston,  to  the  savage 
chief. 

"That." 

He  pointed  to  a  bird  of  gaudy-coloured  plumage  which 
just  then  rose  with  a  shrill  call  from  the  nearest  tree. 

Hunston  was  by  no  means  a  bad  shot. 

He  brought  the  rifle  to  his  shoulder,  fired,  and  down 
fell  the  poor  parroquet  in  the  throes  of  death. 

' '  Wa-hoo  !  "  they  cried. 

And  they  all  fell  upon  their  faces  around  the  wonderful 
fire-god. 

Hunston  was  once  more  in  power. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A   STRANGE   CHANCE — HUNSTON's   FORTUNES   CONTINUED. 

AND  so  it  transpired,  that  Hunston's  falling  amongst 
savages  was  really  the  luckiest  thing  which  could  have 
happened  to  him. 

He  had  from  the  first  moment  that  he  had  been  landed 
there  by  the  Harkaway  party,  coveted  the  possession  of 
a  rifle. 

Here,  at  one  lucky  stroke  of  fortune,  his  heart's  desire 
was  gratified  at  once. 

And  often  he  would  look  upon  his  mechanical  arm.  and 
smile  grimly  to  himself. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  85 

"The  legend  on  my  arm  does  not  seem  to  be  verified 
for  once.  Why,  it  saved  my  life  most  unmistakably  in 
this  case,"  he  would  remark. 

And  so  it  had. 

But  was  it  not  to  reserve  him  for  a  fate  more  dreadful 
yet? 

He  lived  for  a  considerable  time  with  this  tribe  of  ab- 
origines, wandering  with  them  through  country  after 
country,  district  after  district,  until  one  of  the  tribe  came 
to  them  with  the  startling  news  that  he  had  fallen  in  with 
a  tribe  of  wanderers  who  were  advancing  straight  in  their 
direction. 

This  was  not  all. 

The  wanderers  were  not  coloured  men,  like  Hunston's 
companions,  but  whites. 

Hunston  watched  the  arrival  of  the  white  men  with 
great  anxiety. 

"The  white  warrior  they  called  Captain  Morgan  is 
there,"  said  the  leader  of  the  tribe.  "A  great  chief" 

' '  Morgan  ?     Who  is  he  ?  " 

"  Fire-god  not  know  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Hunston,  in  some  confusion. 
"I  know — I  know,  of  course.  What  the  white  men  call 
a  bushranger." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  the  chief  of  the  tribe,  quickly,"  "dat 
right.  Bushranger.  'Captain  Morgan  bushranger,  great 
chief,  big  warrior. " 

Hunston  was  thinking  very  little  of  what  was  being 
said. 

His  thoughts  were  occupied  by  one  sole  question. 

How  to  get  off. 

"  I  have  it,"  he  said  to  himself,  " I  have  it." 

"Much  money,  Captain  Morgan,"  said  the  leader  of 
the  blacks.  "  Rich — gold — money — many  cattle." 

"You  would  like  to  have  his  cattle  ?  "  said  Hunston. 

"Could  fire-god  get  Captain  Morgan's  cattle  away  for 
us  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  could,"  replied  Hunston.  "I  go  there 
and  I  charm  it  all  away.  All  for  you,  then  make  fire  all, 
every  thing.  Shall  I  go  ?  " 

The  savage  chief  nodded  eagerly  at  this. 

"Go,  go,"  he  said. 

Hunston  had  some  slight  misgivings,  as  he  approached 


86  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

the  group  of  white  men,  as  to  the  nature  of  the  reception 
he  might  meet  with,  so  he  hoisted  a  handkerchief  upon  a 
staff. 

Now  he  had  only  just  hoisted  his  flag  when  there  was 
a  visible  commotion  amongst  the  white  men,  and  two 
rode  out  to  meet  him. 

"Hullo,"  cried  one  of  the  horsemen,  "stand  a  bit — 
who  are  you  ?  " 

"A  friend." 

"English?" 

"Yes." 

"What  are  you  doing  with  those  black  devils,  then?** 
said  the  horseman. 

''Camping  out,"  replied  Hunston  ;  "firstly  as  their 
prisoner,  and  now  as  their  guest." 

He  advanced. 

"  Stand !"  cried  the  horseman,  bringing  his  rifle  up  to 
his  shoulder.  "Advance  another  step  and  I  fire." 

"Fire!"  quoth  Hunston,  not  a  little  startled  at  this. 
"What  for?  I  am  no  enemy." 

"You  are  no  friend,"  retorted  the  horseman. 

"Why  not?" 

"No  friend  of  ours  is  in  the  company  of  those  treacher- 
ous black  devils." 

"  But  I  tell  you  that  they  picked  me  up,  sick  and  weary 
of  life  ;  by  an  accident  they  were  induced  to  spare  my  life. 
I  practised  a  trick  upon  them,  and  they,  superstitious 
fools  that  they  are,  took  me  upon  my  own  word  for  a  fire- 
god." 

"A  what?" 

"  Afire-god." 

Hunston  then  related  in  a  few  brief  words  his  fall  from 
the  tree  into  the  savages'  fire,  the  lucky  hit  he  had  made, 
and  finally  how  he  had  gulled  them  by  the  application  of 
the  fiery  brands  to  his  mechanical  arm. 

Now  the  part  of  his  explanation  concerning  the  mechan- 
ical arm  seemed  to  strike  the  horseman  singularly. 

A  strange,  almost  wild  thought  flashed  through  his 
mind. 

He  looked  up  suddenly,  and  spoke  one  solitary  word 
to  Hunston,  which  startled  the  latter. 

What  was  it  ? 

A  name. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  87 

"Toro." 

Hunston  jumped  back  a  pace  or  two  at  the  word.  Did 
he  hear  aright  ? 

"What  did  you  say  ?  "  he  faltered. 

"  I  only  mentioned  a  name,"  was  the  horseman's  reply. 

"Say  it  again,"  quoth  Hunston,  his  voice  nearly  failing 
him;  "say  it  again." 

"Toro.  Do  you  know  the  name?  "  asked  the  stranger, 
with  a  keen  glance. 

"I — of  course " 

He  pulled  himself  up  short 

What  if  he  should  be  running  himself  into  a  new 
danger  ? 

Was  it  a  snare  ?     No. 

Impossible.      So  he  reasoned. 

And  while  he  reasoned  thus,  the  horseman  was  watch- 
ing him  keenly. 

"I  see  that  you  do  know  Toro,"  he  said,  "and  I  see, 
too,  who  you  must  be." 

"I— I " 

"Yes,  you  are  Hunston.  You  can't  deny  it.  In  fact, 
I  don't  see  why  you  should  deny  it.  You  are  Hunston." 

"  How  do  you  know  my  name?  " 

The  other  smiled. 

"I  needn't  enter  into  any  long  explanation  with  you 
on  this  point,"  he  said,  significantly. 

And  as  he  spoke  he  whistled  for  his  companions,  who 
stood  aloof  till  now,  to  ride  up. 

And  when  they  came,  the  first  of  the  party  he  saw  was 
Toro  himself. 

Yes,  there  was  his  old  comrade. 

Toro  in  the  flesh. 

Hunston  seemed  in  doubt  for  a  moment,  then  ex~ 
claimed — 

"Toro!" 

Toro  took  one  step  forward,  looking  keenly  at  his 
friend. 

"  Hunston  !  " 

"  Is  it  possible?  "  ejaculated  the  Italian. 

"Am  I  dreaming?"  said  Hunston,  in  amazement,  "or 
can  I  believe  the  evidence  of  my  own  eyes  ?  " 

A  mutual  explanation  ensued. 

Fate  brought  them  together  by  accident,  or  rather,  by 


88  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOWS 

a  series  of  accidents,  after  they  had  been  parted  by  thou- 
sands and  thousands  of  miles  of  sea  and  land. 

"Captain  Morgan,"  said  the  Italian,  "I  wish  my  old 
comrade  to  join  us.  You  could  not  easily  find  a  more 
valuable  recruit.  Will  you  have  him  ?  " 

"  If  he  wishes." 

"And  you,  Hunston,  old  comrade — what  say  you? 
Will  you  join  our  band?  You  may  travel  from  pole  to 
pole  and  not  find  a  braver  or  worthier  leader  than  Captain 
Morgan." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  was  Hunston's  reply.  "Of  all 
things,  it  is  what  I  would  have  asked  you." 

"Agreed." 

' '  Agreed. " 

"Your  hand  upon  that,"  said  the  bushranger  chieftain. 
"  And  you,  my  men  all,  draw  round  and  swear  him  in. 
From  this  time  forth  Hunston  is  one  of  our  band.'* 

"And  now  that  that  is  settled  so  well,  "said  the  Italian, 
"  a  word  in  your  ear  that  will  startle  you." 

"What  is  it?" 

"What  service  are  we  engaged  upon  now,  think  you  ? " 

"I  know  not." 

"Have  you  forgotten  an  old  schoolfellow  of  yours, 
that  you  have  followed  up  since  boyhood,  and  have 
threatened  to  kill." 

"What,"  cried  Hunston,  "  you  cannot  mean  that " 

"  Harkaway  is  here,"  replied  Toro.  "  He  is  travelling 
up  the  country,  and  we  are  tracking  his  party." 

Hunston's  eyes  flashed  fire  at  this. 

"  Harkaway  here  !  Why,  this  is  brave  news,  Toro,  old 
friend.  And  so,  after  all,  fate  wills  it  that  Harkaway 
should  fall  into  my  hands  for  my  just  vengeance.  Yes," 
continued  Hunston,  clenching  his  hands  tightly,  "Harka- 
way, our  reckoning  is  yet  to  come  1 " 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US 'TR ALIA.  89 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  NEW  SETTLEMENT  UP  COUNTRY — THEY  OPEN  WITH  A  FAIR — 
MR.  MOLE  REJOICETH  IN  SONG NIGGERS — THEATRICALS — SHOOT- 
ING FOR  NUTS THE  FUN  OF  THE  FAIR. 

WITHOUT  further  adventures  worthy  of  note,  the  Hark- 
away  party  reached  their  destination  in  safety. 

And  with  them  travelled  their  new  prisoner-recruit,  the 
blackboy,  Tinker. 

"Here,  "said  old  Jack,  planting  his  foot  firmly  upon 
the  ground,  "  here  I  plant  my  flag.  This  is  the  beginning 
of  the  Harkaway  Town." 

The  rest  of  the  party  within  hearing  sent  up  a  cheer. 

"  Hurrah  for  Harkaway  Town  !  " 

A  log  house  was  reared  up  in  an  incredibly  short  space 
of  time  upon  this  very  spot. 

They  had  every  thing  to  hand  for  the  purpose. 

Timber  there  was  in  profusion  for  the  labour,  and  there 
were  plenty  of  willing  hands,  and  tools  of  every  descrip- 
tion necessary  for  the  task. 

This  was  but  the  commencement  of  a  series. 

Around  the  first  log  house  in  which  the  Harkaway 
family  resided,  small  but  substantial  tenements  grew  up 
as  if  by  magic. 

In  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time  a  small  town  arose 
in  the  midst  of  a  wilderness.  At  length,  when  the  town 
began  to  assume  an  aspect  of  completion,  some  of  the 
light-hearted  members  of  the  happy  band  proposed  to  in- 
augurate it  with  a  fair,  with  the  view  of  attracting  to  the 
place  all  the  people  of  the  neighbouring  stations  or  settle- 
ments. 

Mr.  Mole  grew  quite  juvenile  and  uproarious  as  the 
preparations  went  on. 

"  We'll  have  swings,  dear  boys,"  said  he,  "  and  round' 
abouts,  and  cockshies,  and  shooting  for  nuts." 
"  And  a  troupe  of  niggers,"  suggested  Harvey. 
"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Mole;  "and,  above  all,  an  Old  Aunt 
Sally,  my  dear  boys." 
"Of  course." 


90  JA  CK  HARJCA  WAY  AND  HIS  SOJV  'S 

"An  Old  Aunt  Sally,  of  course,"  added  young  Hark- 
away. 

A  strange  idea  flashed  through  young  Jack's  mind  at  this, 
the  result  of  which  will  later  transpire. 

Suffice  it  to  say  for  the  moment  that  it  proved  to  be  an 
unlucky  hit  for  the  worthy  Isaac. 

Now,  as  usual  under  the  circumstances,  Mr.  Mole,  in 
the  excitement  of  the  approaching  festivities,  took  sly 
nips  of  strong  waters,  that  soon  produced  a  very  marked 
effect. 

He  could  not  refrain  from  warbling  a  ditty  that  had 
been  rather  popular  in  his  young  days — 

"  '  Yes,  I  own  'tis  my  delight 

To  see  the  laughter  and  the  fright- 
Such  a  motley,  merry  sight 
As  a  country  fair. 

"  '  Some  are  playing  single-stick ; 
Some  in  roundabouts  so  thick ; 
Maidens  swinging  till  they're  sick, 
At  a  country  fair.' 

"Ah, "he  went  on  to  say,  with  a  slight  hiccough, 
"there's  single-stick,  and — and — by  Jove  !  I  never  thought 
of  that.  Who'll  be  clown  for  us  ?  " 

"  Clown  !  " 

"Yes — must  have  a  clown,  of  course,"  said  Mr.  Mole. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  said  Harry  Girdwood  "we'll  have  a 
black  clown." 

"Who?" 

"Tinker." 

"Jolly  notion  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Mole,  in  his  most  juve- 
nile manner.  "  A  black  clown,  with  white  paint  on  his 
cheeks.  Quite  a  sensation.  Tinker  will  do  well." 

"  We  shall  have  to  get  up  a  concert,"  said  young  Jack. 

"  I'll  sing  a  song,"  volunteered  Mr.  Mole  at  once. 

"Comic?" 

"He,  he!"  giggled  the  old  gentleman  ;  "not  exactly 
comic  !  something  to  tickle  the  general  taste." 

"Bravo!"  said  young  Jack,  quite  convinced,  appar- 
ently, that  Mr.  Mole  would  shine  as  a  singer. 

"And  we  ought  really  to  have  a  booth  for  theatricals." 

"Ah,  a  play.     A  play's  the  thing." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRA  LI  A.  9 1 

"I'll  play  a  part,  if  you  like,"  said  Mr.  Mole.  "Romeo 
would,  I  think,  suit  me." 

"  Romeo.  Yes,  but  we  were  talking  of  playing  Ham- 
let," said  young  Jack,  tipping  the  wink  to  his  friend 
Harry  Girdwood.  "  What  could  you  play,  Mr.  Mole?  " 

Mr.  Mole's  answer  was  given  promptly  and  with  pride. 

"Hamlet." 

"The  principal  character?"  said  Jack,  vith  a  start. 

"Yes." 

' '  That's  settled,  then.  We'll  get  out  the  bills— I'll  paint 
them — posters,  with  '  Isaac  Mole  ' — in  startling  letters, 
three  feet  high — '  Isaac  Mole,  in  his  celebrated  character 
of  Hamlet."'" 

"We  might  add — '  for  this  night  only,'  eh  ?  "  suggested 
Harry. 
'Yes." 

'That's  settled." 

'  All  we  have  to  do,   then,  is  to  cast  the  rest  of  the 
piece,  and  to  set  work  to  study  for  the  tragedy." 
'Stop." 
'  What  is  it  ?  " 

'  How  shall  we  manage  the  old  business  about  Hamlet's 
stocking  ?  "  exclaimed  young  Jack. 

"  We'll  cut  that  out,  "said  Mr.  Mole,  with  great  readi- 
ness. 

This  settled,  young  Jack  and  Harry  Girdwood  left  the 
old  gentleman,  to  consult  about  one  of  the  last  suggested 
items  in  the  programme  of  their  fair. 

Aunt  Sally. 

Young  Jack  had  a  notable  scheme  on  for  this. 

It  resulted  from  some  information  which  he  had  acci- 
dentally come  by. 

This  information  leads  us  back  some  little  way  in  our 
history. 

It  is,  however,  an  important  incident,  for  not  only  does 
it  lead  up  to  what  ensued  at  their  opening  fair,  but  it  also 
explains  the  meaning  of  some  curious  allusions  made 
by  the  chief  of  the  savage  tribe  to  Hunston,  concerning 
Bloona. 

This  the  reader  will,  in  all  probability,  remember. 

But  as  this  matter  is  of  such  importance,  it  deserves  a 
chapter  to  itself. 


92  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

SHORT    RETROSPECT — THE    STORY     OF    BLOONA — WHO    IS    SHE  ?— • 

YOUNG    JACK     DECIDES    THIS CONSPIRACY     AGAINST     MOLE'S 

HAPPINESS AUNT  SALLY  AND  ITS  AWFUL  CONSEQUENCES. 

THERE  was  an  old  coloured  woman  that  travelled  about 
the  country  from  one  station  to  another,  who  got  a  pre- 
carious living  by  a  reputation  for  being  a  sorceress. 

This  old  woman  has  a  certain  interest  for  all  who  have 
followed  the  fortunes  of  the  Harkaway  family  and  their 
companions,  and  therefore  we  request  the  reader  not  to 
skip  the  following  lines. 

This  old  woman  was  called  Bloona. 

And  thereby  hangs  a  tale. 

It  was  said  that  those  who  had  known  her  longest, 
remembered  her  being  landed  at  Port  Philip  by  an  English 
vessel,  and  that  the  sailors  had  a  wonderful  yarn  about 
having  picked  up  a  balloon  at  sea,  in  the  car  of  which  th^rc 
was  but  one  living  soul,  and  that  she  was  very  nearly 
dead. 

Great  care  and  attention  upon  the  part  of  the  ship's 
doctor  had  brought  her  round. 

But  for  a  long  while  her  reason  appeared  to  have  fled. 

She  could  not  tell  them  anything  of  her  past  life,  nor 
could  she  even  pronounce  her  own  name. 

"Well,"  said  the  ship's  doctor,  who  was  a  wag  in 
his  way,  "we  can't  learn  anything  about  our  dusky 
Venus,  but  we  can  give  her  a  new  name.  She  may  be  a 
new  specimen  of  the  genus  homo,  come  down  in  a  bal- 
loon. We  can  advertise  the  birth — 'Bloona,  dropped 
from  the  skies  on  such  and  such  a  day,  latitude  and  lon- 
gitude doubtful. ' " 

And  so  the  name  of  Bloona,  for  want  of  a  better,  clung 
to  her. 

Now  this  old  woman  wandered  towards  the  Harkaway 
settlement,  and  Harkaway  happened  to  come  into  contact 
with  her. 

From  the  first  moment  that  he  saw  her,  he  felt  con- 
vinced that  he  had  seen  her  somewhere  before. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TR  ALIA.  93 

He  had  informed  young  Jack  of  old  Mole's  marriage  in 
Limbi  with  two  black  women. 

Jack  thought  he  would  convince  himself  about  the  mat- 
ter, so  followed  up  Bloona. 

"  Bloona,"  said  the  boy,  "  have  you  ever  lived  in  other 
countries  than  this  one  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"England?" 

She  made  no  answer  to  this,  but  only  gave  a  vacant 
stare. 

She  was  harmless  and  very  daft,  although  having  fre- 
quent lucid  intervals. 

"  You  know  what  I  say,"  pursued  young  Jack.  "Eng- 
land— England,  London. " 

A  hopeless,  blank  look  was  all  her  reply. 

"  England,  I  say,"  young  Jack  went  on  eagerly,  watch- 
ing for  a  gleam  of  intelligence.  "England,  not  Limbi." 

This  shot  told. 

She  gave  a  start,  and  her  eyes  flashed  fire  at  the  word. 

"Limbi?  Ah,  Limbi/'  she  ejaculated.  "Good 
Limbi  ? " 

"You  remember  Limbi  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  young  Jack.  "I  thought  you 
would  remember  it  presently,  Ambonia. " 

She  stared  at  him,  and  then  repeated  the  word  "Am- 
bonia. " 

Then  she  pushed  her  hair  back  off  her  face,  and  as  old 
recollections,  coaxed  back  by  the  mention  of  the  name, 
rushed  upon  her,  she  gave  a  wild  sort  of  cry. 

"Ha,  hah,  hah!"  she  laughed,  "I  know  now — Am- 
binia — Limbi — all — all — white  husband. " 

When  after  a  while  she  relapsed  into  silence,  young 
Jack  thought  that  he  would  try  her  still  further. 

Still  he  felt  convinced  that  he  had  dropped  upon  the 
truth  from  the  outset. 

She  was  much  changed,  yet  he  could  not  fail,  from  what 
his  father  had  told  him,  to  recognise  the  long-lost  wife  of 
Mr.  Mole. 

He  thought  to  test  her  by  the  name  of  her  lost  spouse. 

"Do  you  remember,  Ambonia,  about  Mole  ?" 

"Mole,  Mole,"  she  repeated,  several  times. 

"Yes — Isaac " 


-4  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"Ah,  Isaac!"  she  ejaculated,  with  wild  energy. 
"Yes,  yes,  I  know.  Mole — Isaac — my  white  husband, 
iny  own  warrior." 

Young  Jack  grinned. 

"Mole  a  warrior?"  said  he.  "  Well  he's  not  what  i 
should  call  a  warrior.  However,  perhaps  it  pleases  her, 
and  I'm  sure  that  it  doesn't  hurt  me.  Isaac  Mole." 

"  My  own,  my  own  !  "  called  out  the  old  woman,  with 
wild  energy.  "Oh,  take  me  to  him,  and  let  these  arms 
clutch  him  tight — tight." 

"Shall  I  take  you  to  him?  "  demanded  young  Jack. 

"  Yes,  yes ;  take  me  quick.  I  give  him  thousand 
kisses.  He  like  me,  I  like  him." 

She  seized  hold  of  Jack,  and  began  to  drag  him  about, 
leading  him  such  a  dance  that  he  almost  repented  of 
having  tackled  her. 

However,  he  got  away  at  last,  with  the  promise  that  he 
would  bring  the  lovely  Mole  to  her. 

He  went  off  at  length,  and  found  Harry  Girclwood. 

"Harry,"  said  he.  "I've  got  the  biggest  lark  on  you 
ever  heard  of. " 

"What  is  it?  "  exclaimed  Harry,  with  eagerness. 

"Who  do  you  think  I've  found?  " 

"Found?" 

"Yes,  found,  for  she  certainly  was  lost  till  now." 

"I  can't  say,  old  boy." 

"Do  you  remember  all  the  story  of  my  dad's  advent- 
ures in  the  island  of  Linabi?" 

"Yes,  every  word." 

"And  do  you  remember  that  old  Mole  got  married 
there  ? " 

"Very  much  married,  too  much  married,"  replied 
Harry,  with  a  grin. 

"  Do  you  remember  that  he  had  two  black  wives  ?  " 

"Yes,  one  died,  and " 

He  paused,  gave  young  Jack  a  sharp  look,  and  then 
ejaculated — 

"  You've  never  found  his  other  wife  that  he  sent  up  in  a 
balloon  ?  " 

Jack  nodded. 

"That's  it ;  the  very  same  woman  that  he  sent  up  in  a 
balloon." 

"  Get  along  ;  what,  one  of  his  first  wives  ?  " 


:xi.  .,"Ji  —  jtf.-u-',  ,<•  •  ••:  '  ••  .. — j;  ./    iiw    •»  -—    3»?SS--is=— .— ^-- 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA .  95 

"You've  hit  it,  Harry,"  said  young  Jack.  "  She  was 
picked  up  at  sea  in  a  balloon.  Poor  creature !  she  has 
seemed  half  silly  ever  since  with  the  fright.  Dad  saw 
her  by  chance,  and  told  me  who  she  was  like.  So  I  have 
questioned  her,  and  I  have  no  doubt  about  it  at  all." 

"Why,  I  scarcely  believed  in  that  part  of  the  tale,  "said 
Harry,  presently.  "  I  half  fancied  that  it  was  only  a  yarn 
about  Mole  having  two  wives  before  his  present  one,  told 
to  amuse  us." 

"Oh,  no.     Now  for  some  fun." 

' '  Now  look  here,  Jack  ;  we  must  take  Mr.  Harvey  into 
our  confidence,  but  not  say  anything  to  your  father  about 
it,  or  he  won't  let  us  have  our  full  fun  out  of  it " 

"Agreed." 

Poor  Mole ! 

A  disaster  was  in  reserve  for  him  indeed. 

Dream  on,  worthy  Isaac,  while  you  may. 

Dream  on. 

Presently  you  will  awaken  to  a  reality,   which  it  will 

require  all  your  courage  and  all  your  nerve  to  face. 
****** 

The  fair  opened  with  a  flourish  of  trumpets. 

Young  Jack,  rigged  out  as  a  herald,  blew  a  tara-ta- 
tara-ta. 

Harry  rang  a  big  bell,  such  as  railway  porters  are  wont 
to  deafen  us  with. 

' '  Oh,  yes,  oh,  yes,  oh,  yes  !  "  he  cried,  and  declared 
the  fair  open. 

There  were  hundreds  of  people  from  the  settlements 
about  that  part  of  the  country. 

After  a  variety  of  swinging  and  shooting  for  nuts,  and 
cockshies,  and  other  similar  recreations,  they  all  started, 
accompanied  by  the  noisy  bell,  to  hear  an  entertainment 
given  by  an  amateur  troupe  of  Ethiopian  serenaders. 

Old  Jack  played  the  fiddle,  Harvey  was  tambourine 
and  the  corner  men  were  young  Jack  and  his  comrade 
Harry  Girdwood. 

They  had  new  songs  and  new  jokes  and  riddles,  and 
altogether  the  troupe  of  niggers,  who  were  known  as 
the  "  Snowballs  of  Nubia,"  carried  off  the  honours  of  the 
opening  of  the  fair. 

"  Now,  Mithter  Bones, "said  Tambourine,"  "  whaththe 
next  thong  on  de  programme  ?  " 


96  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"De  ' Wooden-Legged  Warrior, '"  responded  Bones. 
The  song  was  greeted  with  the  most  uproarious  mirth 

and  applause. 

****** 

After  an  endless  round  of  amusements  there  came  one 
of  the  chief  attractions  of  the  day's  entertainment. 

Aunt  Sally. 

"Aunt  Sally  you  look  upon  as  a  rather  degrading 
amusement  for  a  man,  I  suppose,  Mr.  Mole  ?  "  said  Dick 
Harvey. 

"I'm  not  above  being  amused  by  trifles,  Harvey,"  said 
the  old  gentleman,  with  a  condescending  smile. 

"  And  do  you  consider  Aunt  Sally  in  that  light,  sir  ?  " 

"Yes." 

' '  I  suppose  you  never  had  a  shy  at  your  black  relative  ?  " 
pursued  Dick,  artfully. 

Mole  smiled. 

' '  Before  you  were  born. " 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Dick.      " So  long  ago." 

"Yes." 

"Capital,"  said  young  Jack.  "  I  should  so  like  to  see 
you  have  a  shy  at  the  old  gal,  Aunt  Sally." 

"Good,"  said  Mole,  chuckling.  "Good  again.  I'll  go 
and  show  you  a  trifle  in  the  way  of  Aunt  Sally,  unless 

"Unless  what,  sir?  "  said  young  Jack. 

"Unless  my  old  hand  has  lost  its  cunning,"  said  Mole. 
"Why,  you'll  hardly  believe  what  I  am  going  to  say." 

"That's  very  likely." 

"What?" 

"Nothing,  sir." 

' '  I  thought  you  said " 

"No,  sir." 

' ;  I'm  very  glad  of  it,  for  I  don't  like  observations  which 
savour  of  impertinence." 

"  I  was  going  to  say  that  when  I  was  a  young  man " 

"What  an  immense  long  time  ago  that  must  have  been." 

"A  century,"  suggested  Harkaway. 

Mr.  Mole's  nose  curled  up  disdainfully. 

"Such  trivialities  are  really  beneath  my  notice,"  he 
said.  "When  I  was  a  young  man,"  he  added,  turning 
his  back  upon  Harkaway,  "  I  was  known  as  the  champion 
Aunt  Sally  player  of  the  world. '' 

"The  champion  Aunt  Sally  player?     Dear  me  ! " 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  THALIA.  97 

"I'll  tell  you,  what,  sir,"  said  young  Jack.  "I'll  bet 
you  a  sovereign  that  you  don't  hit  the  pipe  once  out  of  the 
mouth  of  the  Aunt  Sally  I  will  show  you." 

"What?" 

"  Not  once." 

"Bah!" 

"Will  you  take  the  bet?" 

"Of  course,  unless  it  is  some  catch,  my  young  friend,'* 
said  the  old  gentleman.  "You  mean  to  prevent  me." 

"Not  I." 

"It  is  a  trick." 

"  You  shall  have  a  fair  field." 

"  And  how  many  sticks  ?  " 

"Twenty." 

"Why,  with  a  quarter  of  them  I'll  smash  the  Aunt  Sally 
you  show  me.  I'll  shiver  it  to  a  thousand  atoms." 

"  Bet  you  a  sovereign  that  you  don't  even  touch  it,"  said 
Jack. 

"Done  !" 

Off  they  marched  in  procession  to  the  Aunt  Sally. 

Our  ebon  relative  stood  at  some  distance  from  the  line 
marked  for  the  sportsmen  to  toe,  and  of  this  Mr.  Mole 
complained  at  first. 

But  they  calmed  down  even  this  with  the  assurance 
that  it  was  the  regulation  distance,  and  that  it  per- 
haps appeared  further  than  usual  to  him,  because 
his  sight  was  not  as  good  as  it  had  been  once  upon  a 
time,  a  statement  which  he  indignantly  refuted. 

Aunt  Sally  looked  very  strange. 

Instead  of  being  the  ordinary  wooden  doll  perched  upon 
a  short  pole  or  stick,  it  was  a  large  black  figure  seated  in 
a  chair. 

It  looked  like  an  old  woman,  and  wore  the  orthodox 
frilled  night-cap. 

The  most  striking  difference  between  this  Aunt  Sally 
and  the  Aunt  Sally  that  we  have  all  grown  familiar  with 
in  this,  the  mother  country,  was  in  the  pipe,  or  more 
properly  speaking,  in  the  way  that  the  said  pipe  was 
carried. 

Aunt  Sallys,  as  we  see  them  here,  generally  carry  their 
pipes  in  their  noses. 

This  Aunt  Sally  more  naturally,  perhaps,  yet  more  un- 
usually, carried  the  pipe  in  her  mouth. 
7 


98  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

Moreover,  this  Aunt  Sally  had  not  that  rag-shop-doll  look 
about  her  which  characterises  all  the  Aunt  Sallys  we  have 
ever  seen. 

There  she  sat  up,  however,  looking  more  like  a  black  Guy 
Faux  of  the  female  gender  than  Aunt  Sally,  yet  answering 
the  purpose  admirably. 

"It  is  a  precious  long  shy,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  looking 
rather  blue  ;  "  never  saw  anything  like  it." 

"You  want  to  be  off  the  bet  ?  "  said  young  Jack,  hastily. 

"No,  that  I  don't." 

"  Go  on  then." 

"Give  me  the  sticks.     I'll  soon  smash  its  nose." 

"There." 

"I  shall  not  want  all  that  bundle  ;  half,  a  quarter  will 
suffice,  or  I'll  eat  my  head." 

Confidence  in  his  skill  was  shown  in  his  voice,  his  look 
and  self-reliant  eye. 

'  I'll  bet  you  ten  pounds  more  before  you  start." 
'What?" 

'  I'll  give  you  fifty  to  ten,  Jack,"  said  Mr.  Mole. 

'  Fifty  ?  " 

'  Yes,  fifty  to  ten  that  I  smash  the  pipe,  knock  its  old 
head  off,  send  it  to  smithereens,  wherever  that  is,  in  one 
shot. " 

"Done." 

"I'll take  you  on  the  same  terms,  Mr.  Mole, "said  Dick 
Harvey. 

"You  shall." 

"Agreed." 

Mr.  Mole  stooped  and  selected  one  of  the  sticks. 

Having  picked  one  out,  he  poised  it  in  his  hand  with 
the  air  of  an  expert. 

"This'lldo." 

"Now  then,  sir,"  said  Jack,  junior;  "one — two — 
th " 

"Oh,  dear  me !" 

Mole  dropped  his  stick. 

"Hullo  !  "  exclaimed  Harvey  ;   "  what  was  that?  " 

"It's  very  odd,  indeed,  Harvey,  my  dear  boy,  but  I 
fancied  that  the  figure  of  old  Aunt  Sally  moved. " 

"Moved?     You  must  be  mistaken,  Mr.  Mole." 

Yet  strange  to  relate,  the  bystanders  generally  had 
shared  Mr  Mole's  fancy  in  this. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


99 


No  one,  however,  said  anything  upon  that  side  of  the 
question,  for  Harvey  appeared  so  withering  in  his  sarcasm, 
that  they  did  not  care  to  incur  its  attack. 

"  You're  not  well,"  said  Harvey  ;  "something  has  hap- 
pened to  you.  Try  again,  try  again,  Mr.  Mole." 

"I  will,"  remarked  Mr.  Mole,  with  an  air  of  determi- 
nation ;  "it  was  no  doubt  fancy." 

It  looked  remarkably  like  a  wink  for  fancy. 
However,  he  took  up  the  stick  again — he  had  let  it  fall 
from  his  hand — and  prepared  to  throw. 

'One,"  cried  young  Jack,   in  a  loud  voice,  "two " 

Hah  !  " 
What  is  it?" 
Look  there." 
' I  see  nothing." 

'What,"  ejaculated   Mr.    Mole,    "don't  you  see  the 
figure  ?  " 

The  simple  fact  was,  that  at  this  precise  moment,  the 
figure  of  old  Aunt  Sally  had  moved,  the  wooden  old  lady 
effigy  had  gravely  taken  her  pipe  from  her  mouth,  and 
was  nodding  her  head  at  Mr.  Mole. 

The  latter  paled  with  fright,    as  it  were,    and  stood 
quaking  with  fear,  and  looking  on. 
"  Look,"  he  gasped  again. 
Young  Jack  had  looked. 
"Ahem  !  "  he  coughed. 

And  immediately  old  Aunt  Sally  replaced  her  pipe,  and 
resumed  her  statuesque  appearance  and  attitude. 
We  have  said  statuesque. 

We  might  have  said  statuesque  if  not  graceful,  for  grace- 
ful it  decidedly  was  not. 

Whatever  is  the  matter,   Mr.    Mole  ?  "  asked  young 


"then  let  anybody  else  but  you  look,  and  see  for  them- 
selves." 

He  pointed  to  the  figure,  and  every  eye  was  turned  that 
way. 

"See  there,  the  dreadful  old  creature  is  wagging  her 
ugly  head  at  me,"  cried  Mole. 

He  paused — stopped  short 

Then  he  said — 


100  JACK  HA  RKA  WAY  A  ND  HIS  SON'S 

"Look  again,  Jack,  the  figure  is  opening  its  large  black 
mouth,  as  if  about  to  speak." 

"What  is  the  matter?  "  asked  the  bystanders. 

"What  is  it  ?  "  echoed  Mr.  Mole  ;  "why,  I  am  positive 
that  I  saw  it  move  its  mouth." 

"Whose  mouth?  " 

"Aunt  Sally's." 

"Bah!" 

"You  may  'bah,'"  said  Mole,  stoutly,  "but  I  can 
trust  the  evidence  of  my  eyes,  and  I  can  swear  that  it 
moved,  opened  its  ugly  mouth,  and " 

Young  Jack  cut  him  off  short  in  the  midst  of  his 
speech. 

"Don't  talk  nonsense,  sir,"  he  said,  peremptorily  ;  "if 
you  want  to  cry  off  your  bet,  say  so,  only  don't  shilly- 
shally." v 

Mole  was  furious. 

' '  How  dare  you,  how  dare  you,  you — you — you  im- 
pudent young  jacknapes  ? " 

"Now  don't  call  me  out  of  my  name, "  replied  the  boy, 
coolly;  "not  jacknapes,  but  Jack  Harkaway,  junior,  at 
your  service.  Only  don't  pretend  you  can  hit  anything 
in  future.  I  forgive  you  your  bet,  sir,  if  you  can't  find 
the  money;  that's  enough." 

This  brought  Isaac  Mole  up  to  a  white  heat. 

"  I'll  stick  to  my  bet,  and  what's  more,  I'll  make  you 
stick  to  your  bet ;  and  if  you  get  the  best  of  Isaac  Mole, 
why,  I'll — I'll — I  don't  know  what — damme  !  " 

"Go  on,  then,"  said  young  Jack.  "Aunt  Sally's  be- 
fore  you." 

"Give  me  the  stick." 

As  Mole  took  the  stick,  Aunt  Sally  took  a  sight. 

"Hah!"  shrieked  Mole,    "that  ugly  thing   must   be 

•  •  ••  o    ^ 

alive. 

Then  the  stick  fell  from  his  hand. 

The  bystanders  looked  first  at  him,  and  then  at  Aunt 
Sally. 

The  old  lady  had  dropped  her  pipe,  and  was  behaving 
in  a  most  unladylike  manner  at  Mr.  Mole. 

There  was  no  getting  over  this. 

She  was  taking  a  sight. 

At  length  Mr.  Mole  recovered  his  speech. 

"She's  alive,  alive,"  shouted  Mole. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  IQI 

There  was  no  mistake  about  it ;  she  was  alive. 

"Why,"  exclaimed  one  of  the  public,  "it's  an  old  black 
woman  that  has  been  gammoning  us." 

"  Let  us  have  her  out,"  shouted  another. 

The  suggestion  was  caught  up  eagerly. 

A  rush  was  made  at  Aunt  Sally,  and  Mole  was  in  that 
rush. 

They  dragged  her  off  her  seat,  and  pulled  her  up  to 
where  Mr.  Mole  was  standing. 

And  then — oh,  then  ! 

What  took  place  ? 

Aunt  Sally  tore  off  her  cap,  gave  a  wild  cry,  and  rushed 
at  the  dumb-stricken  Mole. 

"Isaac — my  Ikey — Ikey,"  she  shrieked,  "my  Mole, 
my  own  Mole  !  " 

With  which  she  threw  her  large  black  arms  around 
his  neck. 

As  Mole  rested  thus  in  her  embrace,  he  noticed  a 
strangely  familiar  ring  in  her  voice,  and  his  very  soul 
quailed. 

He  was  paralysed  with  fright  at  first,  but  recovering 
himself,  he  struggled  to  get  free 

But  Aunt  Sally  was  far  too  much  for  him  when  once 
she  had  fastened  on. 

She  held  him  as  if  in  a  vise,  and  continued  crying  out — 

"  Ikey — Ikey,  my  own  Ikey,  my  Mole,  my  own  Mole, 
come  to  my  lubbing  arms." 

"  Hooray  !  "  shouted  the  lookers-on  in  a  chorus. 

"  Let  go,  you  black  devil,"  shrieked  Mole. 

"My  Ikey,  my  Mole,"  vociferated  Aunt  Sally  ;  "come 
and  lub  me." 

' '  What  does  she  want  with  the  old  gentleman  ?  "  de- 
manded one  of  the  crowd. 

"It's  my  husband — my  beautiful  Mole,"  retorted  Aunt 
Sally,  proudly.  "  I  lub  him — him  lub  me." 

"Hah  !" 

A  cry  like  that  of  a  wounded  stag  burst  from  poor  old 
Mole  at  these  words. 

"Get  out,  Sally,"  said  someone;  "why,  he's  got  a 
wife  already." 

"  Yes,  and  a  black  one,"  suggested   another  voice. 

"  My  Ikey,  my  Ikey's  only  my  Ikey  !  "  cried  Aunt  Sally, 
again,  in  mixed  anguish  and  affection. 


102  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOAr'S 

Mole  struggled  to  get  free  at  the  neck,  and  at  length 
succeeded,  but  she  held  him  still,  although  at  arm's 
length. 

"  Mole,  my  own  Mole,  my  pretty  Mole,"  she  exclaimed, 
piteously,  "don't  you  remember  your  poor  wife  who 
went  up  in  a  balloon  ? " 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  from  the  crowd. 

"  Ha,  ha  !  Up  in  a  balloon,"  cried  Mole,  in  accents  of 
mad  despair. 

' '  Your  own  lubly  wife.  Yes,  dearest,  I  am  for  eber 
your  Ambonia. " 

"Guggle,  guggle  !  "  murmured  Mole.  , 

And  then  his  wooden  legs  gave  way  beneath  him,  and 
he  sank  upon  the  ground  with  a  groan  of  unutterable 
despair,  saying — 

"Up  in   a  balloon,  boys,  up  in  a  balloon." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

TWICE   WEDDED    ONCE    MORE HIS    FEAR    AND    HIS    CUNNING NO 

AVAIL HOW    HE   GOT   OVER    HIS   TROUBLE. 

YES,  there  was  no  mistake  about  this. 

It  was  Ambonia. 

Mole's  Limbian  wife,  that  he  had  married  years  ago. 

Old  Jack  knew  it  almost  at  once  when  he  had  come 
across  her  under  the  significant  name  of  Bloona. 

The  explanation  of  that  suggestive  name  had  told  him 
all. 

Hence   the  secret  of  Mr.    Mole's  present   trouble,   for 
young  Jack  had  arranged  that  Ambonia  should  stand  as 
Aunt  Sally,  and  by  that  means  discover  her  lost  Mole. 
****** 

Need  it  be  said  that  Mole's  fright  was  some  thing 
terrific  ? 

You  can  imagine  the  poor  old  gentleman's  agony. 

Poor  Mole  1 

This  was  a  calamity  which,  of  all  others,  he  certainly 
had  never  looked  forward  to. 

He  had  long  regarded  his  troubles  in  the  matrimonial 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  1 03 

speculations  in  which  he  had  been  inveigled  in  th«  island 
of  Limbi  as  over. 

Alas! 

He  soon  discovered  his  mistake  now. 

He  was  rudely  awakened  to  the  fact  that  he  was  rather 
more  married  than  ever. 

Far  more  so. 

When  he  reflected  awhile  about  his  black  American 
wife  Chloe,  and  he  looked  forward  to  her  meeting  with 
his  long-lost  Ambonia,  he  felt  as  if  cold  water,  to  use  his 
own  expression,  were  trickling  down  the  small  of  his  back. 

"Mole!  Ikey!"  shrieked  Ambonia;  "come  to  your 
old  gal's  arms  ag'in.  I  lub  you." 

And  she  seized  him  in  such  a  bear-like  hug  that  she 
squeezed  all  the  breath  out  of  his  body. 

"Why  don't  you  spoke  to  me,  Ikey?"  cried  Ambonia, 
to  whom  the  restoration  of  her  long-lost  helpmate  appeared 
to  give  back  her  reason.  ' '  Ain't  you  glad  to  see  your 
old  gal  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes,"  cried  Mole,  in  woeful  tones;  "of  course  I 
am." 

"Why  don't  you  cuddle  me  up?  "  cried  out  Ambonia, 
in  accents  of  bitter  reproach. 

She  pitched  her  reproaches  in  such  a  high  treble  that 
Mole's  alarm  increased  every  instant 

"  Dear,  dear  !  "  he  cried,  in  distress,  "I  wish  you  would 
only  draw  it  a  leetle  bit  milder.  I  shall  have  Chloe  here." 

"  What  ?  "  shrieked  Ambonia.  "  What  Chloe  do  with 
you?  You  my  husband." 

Ambonia  fired  up  at  the  name  of  another  woman. 

"Eh? — nothing,  my  dear,"  stammered  Mole,  greatly 
perplexed. 

"What  name  did  you  say ? " 

"N-n-no  thing." 

"Be  golly!"  said  the  dusky  lady,  eyeing  Mr.  Mole 
menacingly.  "You  said  something  about  a  gal." 

"N-n-no." 

"You  did!  " 

Her  voice  and  manner  struck  terror  to  his  very  soul. 

If  Chloe  should  but  hear  ! 

The  idea  was  too  horrible  to  contemplate. 

Now,  just,  as  this  thought  flashed  through  Mole's  mind, 
Chloe's  voice  was  heard  close  by. 


J04  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

Instinctively  Mrs.  Mole  (number  three)  had  smelt 
danger  from  afar,  and  she  came  running  up  to  the  spot. 

"  Isaac,  my  dear  old  man,"  she  said. 

"  My  dear "  began  Mole. 

"What  you  do  here?"  thundered  Ambonia,  in  menac- 
fng  accents. 

It  was  getting  warm  for  Mole. 

Too  warm  for  him. 

"Who  is  that  pusson  ?  "  demanded  Ambonia. 

"How  dare  you  call  me  a  pusson?"  cried  Chloe. 
•' You're  a  pusson  yourself,  so  there  now." 

And  this  she  gave  out  as  if  it  ought  to  silence  the  other 
on  the  instant. 

Chloe  didn't  know  the  other  lady,  it  was  clear. 

"Ikey,"  said  Ambonia,  in  her  most  endearing  manner, 
"Ikey,  mylubby,  if  I  find  you  have  been  a-lowering  your- 
self by  speaking  to  this  strange  pusson,  you'll  have  to 
suffer  for  it,  so." 

And  down  came  one  hand  upon  the  other  with  great 
force. 

Poor  Mole  closed  his  eyes  in  despair. 

"Mr.  Mole,"  said  Chloe,  with  ill-suppressed  wrath, 
"tell  that  negro  woman  to  go." 

"Who  are  you,  you  black  ting,  tell  dis  lady  to  go?" 
cried  Ambonia. 

"Mrs.  Mole,  madam,"  responded  Chloe,  with  a  bob 
that  was  meant  for  a  ceremonious  curtsey. 

Ambonia  jumped  up  as  if  she  had  just  received  her  death- 
wound  from  a  gun. 

"You  Mrs.  Mole?" 

"Yes." 

The  other  made  no  reply,  but  stepped  back  aghast. 

Then  recovering  herself,  she  turned  to  Mole,  and  fixing 
him  with  her  big  eyes,  she  pumped  herself  up  to  a 
"white"  heat,  preparatory  to  opening  fire  upon  him. 

"  So  you  got  another  gal,  after  sending  me  up  in  a  bal- 
loon," she  said.  "You  wretch!  you  beast!  You  get 
another  wife.  You  send  one  up  in  a  balloon,  with  noth- 
ing to  eat,  while  you  get  another  !  I'll  teach  you  !  " 

And  she  was  about  to  teach  him  as  she  promised,  when 
Mrs.  Mole  the  third  stepped  up  before  her. 

And  then  Chloe  stuck  her  arms  akimbo,  and  looked  very 
big  things. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  ^  Or 

They  stared  at  each  other  fixedly  for  awhile. 

And  then  Chloe  said  in  most  significant  tones — 

' '  Well,  mum  ?  " 

"Well,  mum?" 

' '  How  dare  you  talk  to  my  husband  like  that  ?  Do  you 
know  that  he's  my  lawful  wedded,  and  that  you're  no 
better  than  a  'truder  here  ?  " 

She  meant  intruder. 

Ambonia  was  not  critical  as  to  a  syllable,  more  or 
less. 

She  squared  her  shoulder,  a  la  Madame  Angot,  at  Chloe, 
and  "went  in." 

"You're  a  low,  ignorant  nigger,"  she  said,  "for  Ike 
was  my  husband  before  he  heerd  or  seen  you." 

"  Hah  !  "  shrieked  Chloe,  "is  that  true,  Ikey  Mole?  " 

Poor  Mole  stammered,  and  tried  to  explain  himself. 

But  in  vain. 

He  could  scarcely  get  out  a  word. 

"  Of  course  it's  true,"  said  Ambonia,  "so  come  along 
with  your  own  ole  sweetheart,  Ikey  dear.  Come  to  my 
arms  and  me  take  care  of  you." 

With  this  she  darted  round  her  rival,  and  seized  her 
faithless  husband  by  the  arm. 

At  one  tug  she  would  certainly  have  pulled  him  off  his 
pins,  had  not  Chloe  laid  hold  of  him  by  the  other  arm,  and 
held  fast  on. 

"Come  here,"  cried  Ambonia. 

"Come  here,"  cried  Chloe. 

And  didn't  they  tug? 

Over  went  Mole  one  way,  and  then  the  other. 

After  a  succession  of  see-saws,  Chloe,  being  the  younger 
and  the  stronger  woman,  gave  one  violent  tug  that  jerked 
their  victim  off  his  feet. 

Down  he  went  sprawling,  and  up  went  his  timber 
toes. 

This  had  a  very  remarkable  effect  upon  Mole's  Limbian 
wife,  who  now  perceived  for  the  first  time  the  strange 
physical  drawback  of  the  husband  she  was  struggling 
for. 

What  did  those  ugly  wooden  legs  mean  ? 

Ambonia  remembered  her  Mole  having  two  beautiful 
legs. 

Mole,  who,  in  spite  of  his  terror  was  not  exactly  a  fool 


1 06  JA  CK  HARK  A  WAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

saw  Ambonia's  surprise,  and  was  not  slow  to  take  advan- 
tage of  it. 

"This  poor  woman  is  altogether  wrong,"  he  said,  as  a 
last  desperate  venture  ;  "she  takes  me  for  her  husband." 

"Yes,"  cried  Mrs.  Ambonia  Mole,  with  great  fury. 
"But  what  am  these  wooden  legs  for?  " 

"You  see  that  she  knew  so  precious  little  of  me,  that 
this  surprises  her,"  said  the  artful  Mole,  holding  up  one 
wooden  leg.  Ambonia  was  fairly  staggered. 

Mole  went  on. 

Now  was  his  time  to  follow  up  the  little  advantage  thus 
gained. 

"  Hah,  I  see  !  "  he  exclaimed,  hysterically.  "My  good 
lady,  you  must  have  known  my  brother — my  twin  brother, 
Isaac  Ikey  Mole." 

"Your  brudder  ?"  cried  Chloe,  who  couldn't  see  what 
he  was  driving  at  at  all. 

"Yes,  my  twin-brother,"  said  Mole,  while  Ambonia 
stared  in  silence.  "We  were  so  much  alike,  that  no  one 
could  tell  us  apart." 

"Never." 

"That's  it,"  said  Mole,  "never!  No  one  ever  guessed 
any  thing  of  it  at  all.  No  one  could  tell  which  was  Isaac 
or  which  was  Isaac  Ikey  when  we  had  got  our  trousers 
on." 

The  ladies  shrieked. 

' '  Disgustful !  "  cried  Chloe,  stalking  away. 

"Stop,  stop,  my  dear,"  cried  Mole.  "I  mean — that  is, 
the  only  point  of  difference  between  us  is  that  which  you 
see.  Isaac  Ikey,  my  twin  brother,  was  born  with  his  full 
complement  of  natural  legs,  while  I " 

He  sighed  and  pointed  significantly  to  his  wooden 
legs. 

"  You  nebber  born  like  dat,"  said  the  sceptical  Am- 
bonia. 

"Oh,  indeed,"  said  Mole;  "wasn't  I?  You  look  in 
the  newspapers  of  the  time,  and  the  medical  journals,  and 
you'll  see  ;  why,  the  wooden-legged  babe  was  the  wonder 
of  the  age.  So  I  tell  you  what,"  he  went  on  to  say,  cock- 
ing  his  eye  up  at  Ambonia,  "you  had  better  go  over  to 
England,  and  find  my  brother,  if  you  want  him." 

But  Ambonia,  though  rather  shaken,  was  not  yet  done 
with  altogether. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  t  Oj 

"No,"  she  said,  stoutly,  "one  of  us  is  mistook,  dat's 
sartain,  but  faint  dis  chile.  Dat  young  pusson,"  meaning 
Chloe,  "had  better  go  over  to  England  forde  oderMole  " 

Saying  which,  she  made  a  grab  at  poor  Isaac. 

It  was  now  getting  beyond  a  joke,  so  Mole's  tormentors 
came  up  to  the  rescue. 

They  calmed  the  irate  negress  Ambonia,  and  they  made 
her  understand  that  although  her  marriage  with  Mole 
might  have  been  all  right  according  to  Limbian  law,  it 
would  not  hold  good  here. 

Chloe,  upon  the  other  hand,  was  safely  tied  to  the 
worthy  Isaac  by  the  Christian  church. 

This,  and  a  bribe,  with  the  means  of  returning  to  her 
native  land  being  placed  in  her  power,  they  contrived  to 
get  clear  of  her,  but  not  before  she  gave  Mole  one  tight 
embrace,  saying — 

' '  Perhaps  me  come  back  for  you  some  day,  Ikey,  then 
me  keep  you  all  to  myself." 

Poor  Isaac  suffered  more  agony  than  will  bear  calm 
contemplation. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

A  HOLIDAY — LORD  HIGH  PROTECTOR  MOLE — LOST  IN  THE    BUSH 

AUSTRALIAN  SCENES. 

MR.  MOLE'S  game  at  Aunt  Sally,  and  its  results,  formed 
a  capital  subject  for  conversation  in  the  little  settlement 
for  some  days. 

Bloona,  alias  Ambonia,  had  for  the  time  disappeared, 
though  there  was  no  knowing  how  soon  she  might  re- 
appear to  claim  her  spouse. 

Dick  Harvey  even  suggested  that  she  had  gone  to  col- 
lect an  army  of  the  natives,  by  whose  aid  she  would  en- 
force her  matrimonial  rights,  while  old  Jack  suggested  that 
perhaps  she  had  gone  down  to  Melbourne  to  appeal  to 
the  highest  colonial  courts  to  decide  the  question. 

"Oh,  Lord  !  there  will  be  a  pretty  exposure  if  she  does," 
groaned  the  ex-tutor. 

"  How  so  ?  "  asked  Dick. 

"It  will  be  reported  in  the  Australian  papers,  English 


1 08  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

papers  will  copy  it,  and  then  all  the  world  will  know  that 
Professor  Mole,  com — ah  !  " 

"Committed  bigamy,  you  mean." 

"That  is  an  odious  phrase,  Harvey  ;  however,  be  it  so, 
and  the  world  will  laugh  when  it  hears  that  Professor 
Mole  committed  bigamy,  as  you  say,  with  a — a  brace  of 
black  women." 

"Besides  attempting  to  win  the  affections  of  a  Scotch- 
Greek  monthly  nurse,"  observed  old  Jack. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Mole,  rising,  "  your  conversation  is 
getting  vulgar  and  impertinent.  I  leave  you. " 

So  saying,  he  stalked  away. 

Of  course,  they  laughed  at  him. 

But  they  could  not  always  laugh  even  at  Mole,  and 
young  Jack,  with  his  friend,  Harry  Girdwood,  began  to 
long  for  some  new  excitement. 

"Three  or  four  days  in  the  bush  by  ourselves,  Harry. 
That  would  be  the  thing." 

"  Yes  ;  I  should  like  it." 

"Then  I'll  go  and  speak  to  dad  at  once."  And  young 
Jack  rushed  off. 

' '  You'll  get  carried  off  by  the  bushrangers, "  said  old 
Jack,  in  reply  to  his  son's  application  for  leave  of  absence. 

"We  shall  be  armed." 

"No  doubt,  but  you  must  not  go." 

"But  Harry  and  myself  are  a  match  for  a  dozen  ;  be- 
sides, we  have  not  heard  any  thing  about  the  rascals  for 
a  long  time  past." 

"You  seem  bent  on  going." 

' '  We  are,  dad. " 

"You'll  come  to  grief." 

"You  ought  to  have  more  confidence  in  the  heir  to  your 
world-renowned  name." 

"You  ought  to  have  less  cheek,  youngster.  Well,  go 
if  you  like,  but  1  insist  upon  your  taking  Sunday  and 
Monday." 

"And  Tinker?" 

"Why,  no  ;  I  may  want  the  lad." 

"My  dear  Harkaway,"  said  Mole,  who  had  been  listen- 
ing, "I  really  think  it  would  be  better  if  I  accompanied 
this  expedition.  I  should  be  a  protection  against  all  dan- 
gers. " 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!" 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  i  o  9 

"You  may  laugh — but  surely  you  have  forgotten  howl 
vanquished  the  Greek  brigands,  and  how  in  the  days  of 
yore  I  slaughtered  the  countrymen  of  this  benighted 
savage. " 

The  benighted  savage  was  Monday,  who  had  entered 
the  room,  and  who  now  joined  in  the  conversation, 
with — 

"Don't  you  call  names,  Massa  Mole — an'  you  nebber 
slaughter  none  o'  mine  countrymen." 

"  Though  he  married  a  few  of  your  countrywomen,  eh, 
Monday  ? " 

"The  conversation  is  growing  offensive  again,"  said 
Mole. 

Young  Jack,  however,  brought  the  conversation  back  to 
its  starting-point — his  proposed  excursion  into  the  bush, 
and  finally  old  Jack  consented,  on  condition,  as  aforesaid, 
that  Sunday  and  Monday  should  be  of  the  party,  and  that 
they  should  all  be  thoroughly  armed. 

Accordingly  the  next  morning  at  an  early  hour  they 
started — five  of  them — in  a  kind  of  rude  cart,  with  very 
strong  springs,  fit  for  the  rough  work  it  would  have  to 
encounter. 

Their  course  was  a  northerly  one,  young  Jack's  object 
being  to  explore,  if  possible,  a  range  of  mountains  said  to 
be  situated  in  that  direction. 

It  was  very  sultry  weather,  although  the  sun  was  over- 
cast with  clouds. 

However,  they  had  a  compass  to  steer  by,  and  all  went 
well — 

For  a  time. 

Long  before  noon  Mole  felt  thirsty,  and  the  boys  felt 
hungry,  so  it  was  resolved  to  take  half  an  hour  for  rest  and 
refreshment. 

The  meal  ended,  they  resumed  their  journey. 

Presently  young  Jack  said — 

"Those  are  not  the  trees  we  resolved  to  go  to." 

"Certainly  not,"  replied  Harry.  "Where  is  the  com- 
pass, Monday  !  " 

"  Compass,  Massa  Harry  ?" 

"  Yes,  quick." 

The  compass,  which  they  had  already  consulted  twice, 
could  not  be  found. 

It  was  lost,  and  so  were  the  young  explorers. 


110  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

A  council  of  war  was  at  once  held,  and  old  Mole,  for  a 
wonder,  made  a  sensible  proposition. 

"We  had  better  get  on  to  those  trees,"  said  he,  "and 
camp  there,  where  probably  we  shall  find  fodder  and  water 
for  the  horse.  To-morrow,  if  the  sky  is  clear,  we  can  steer 
by  the  sun." 

This  appeared  very  practical,  and  they  agreed  to  do  so. 

But  their  troubles  were  not  over. 

The  axle  of  the  cart  snapped  with  a  sudden  crack,  and 
all  their  provisions  went  rolling  in  the  sand.  Monday  and 
Sunday  hastened  to  extricate  the  horse  from  the  shafts  of 
the  fallen  vehicle,  but  as  soon  as  ever  he  was  at  liberty,  he 
bolted,  and  was  soon  lost  to  sight 

' '  What  is  to  be  done  now  ?  "  asked  Mole. 

"Take  up  our  traps  and  walk,"  replied  young  Jack. 

"Whereto?" 

"To  that  clump  of  trees  where  you  proposed  we  should 
roost.  So  bear  a  hand  here,  Monday." 

"  All  right,  Massa  Jack." 

While  the  party  were  loading  themselves,  the  trampling 
of  many  hoofs,  the  cracking  of  whips,  and  the  shouts  of 
men,  caused  them  to  turn  their  eyes  in  the  direction  of 
these  sounds. 

They  were  caused  by  a  large  herd  of  bullocks  being 
driven  homeward  by  the  stockmen. 

The  animals,  like  all  bush  cattle,  were  more  than  half 
wild,  and  needed  a  good  deal  of  force,  as  well  as  persua- 
sion, to  keep  them  in  the  forest  track. 

Some  of  them  seemed  inclined  to  make  a  rush  at  Jack 
and  his  friends,  as  they  stood  under  the  trees. 

But  a  few  cracks  of  the  formidable  whip  from  the  power- 
ful man  in  charge  changed  their  intention,  and  brought 
them  back  to  the  ranks. 

The  men  employed  were  four,  of  whom  one,  a  native 
black,  was  on  foot. 

Jack's  party  hailed  this  opportunity  of  asking  their  way 
out  of  the  predicament  of  being  "lost  in  the  bush." 

But  before  they  could  do  so,  the  principal  of  the  new- 
comers  addressed  them. 

"  Hullo,  mates  !  "  said  he,  pulling  up  his  horse,  "where 
do  you  hail  from  ?  You've  got  bushed  up,  I  reckon." 

"We  have  indeed  lost  our  way,"  answered  Jack,  " and 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  1 1  x 

have  been  wandering  all  day  without  sighting  any  bush- 
station,  or  so  much  as  a  shepherd's  hut." 

"Well,  you're  on  the  right  track,  anyhow.  It's  always 
safe  to  follow  the  course  of  a  creek,  for  it's  bound  to  lead 
you  to  some  inhabited  place  in  time  ;  but  we're  going  to 
steer  straighter  than  that ;  if  you'll  join  us,  you  can  have 
rest  and  food." 

Jack  and  his  comrades  thanked  him,  and  then  asked — 

' '  How  far  is  it  ? " 

"What,  my  hut?  Close  by;  a  matter  of  five  miles. 
We'd  be  there  in  no  time,  if  it  wasn't  so  hard  to  keep 
these  cusses  in  order.  Come  up,  you  varmint !  "  he  ex- 
claimed, cracking  his  whip  over  one  of  the  unruly  bul- 
locks, who  bellowed  with  the  pain,  and  galloped  away. 

Jack  and  his  friends  couldn't  help  looking  at  that  whip. 

They  had  never  seen  such  a  formidable  instrument  in 
their  lives. 

The  handle  was  not  much  more  than  a  foot  in  length. 

The  lash  was  a  terrible  leathern  thong  measuring  about 
twelve  feet,  and  at  the  end  was  a  silk  "cracker,"  the 
sound  of  which  was  almost  as  loud  as  the  roar  of  a 
cannon. 

The  man  who  carried  this  was  a  tall,  handsome  fellow 
of  six  feet,  in  a  "  colonial  tweed  jumper,"  or  woollen  shirt, 
tight  trousers  and  big  jack-boots,  while  his  embrowned 
visage  and  long  beard  and  hair  were  shaded  by  a  broad- 
brimmed,  cabbage-tree  hat. 

He  carried  a  knife  and  a  revolver,  and  was  mounted  on 
a  powerful  black  horse. 

His  companions  were  stockmen  of  an  inferior  stamp 
and  appearance,  the  native  Australian,  a  woolly-headed 
and  bowlegged  specimen  of  black  humanity,  being  appar- 
ently clad  in  the  cast-off  clothes  of  his  master. 

Jack  and  his  companions  were  soon  on  good  terms  with 
the  party,  and  the  stockman  was  equally  communicative. 

"  My  name  is  Joe  Freeman,  and  I  don't  care  who  knows 
it,"  said  he.  "I'm  a  native  Englishman,  like  yourself, 
but  I  went  out  to  California  when  very  young,  made  al- 
most a  fortune  at  the  diggings,  ran  through  it,  and  then 
came  here  to  get  another.  I  didn't  find  it,  though,  and  in 
the  course  of  seven  years  I've  been  first  one  tiling,  then 
another,  and  now  I've  got  the  charge  of  the  Gobberalong 
cattle-run,  on  the  Wimmeroo  Cr«e  V 


112  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"  Gob — what  was  that  you  said?  "  asked  Mr.  Mole. 

' '  Gobberalong ;  that's  where  I  live.  It's  a  native  name  ; 
we've  lots  of  native  names  about  here.  The  next  station's 
Bangaranga  ;  next  to  that's  Duckandilly,  Coomang,  and 
Bunyiparinga. " 

"Upon  my  word,  they  sound  very  pretty,"  said  Mr. 
Mole,  taking  out  his  pocket-book.  "The  aboriginal  lan- 
guage seems  a  very  liquid  one — full  of  vowels.  Let's  put 
a  few  of  them  down.  How  do  you  spell  them  ? " 

"I  don't  spell  'em  at  all,"  answered  the  stockman. 
"This  is  a  part  of  the  Wimmeroo  Creek,"  pointing  to 
the  stream,  which  they  were  now  leaving  behind  them. 
"It  goes  close  by  my  station,  and  afterwards  flows  into 
the  Wurree-Wurree  River. " 

"Is  all  this  land  under  your  management?"  asked 
Harry  Girdwood. 

"Yes;  our  run  takes  up  nearly  all  the  Wangatoola 
plains  and  the  Wurree-Wurree  district.  My  governor, 
Major  Durant,  is  one  of  the  biggest  landowners  in  the 
colony.  He  holds  over  fifty  thousand  acres  of  land,  and 
has  altogether  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  sheep 
and  close  upon  three  thousand  head  of  cattle." 

"  You  do  things  on  a  large  scale  here,"  observed  Jack. 

"We  do,  slightly." 

In  this  conversation  they  pursued  their  way  through 
the  open  forest,  into  the  still  more  open  plains,  until  the 
Stockman's  residence  came  in  sight. 

The  stockman's  dwelling-place  was  a  large  hut.  built  of 
"slabs,"  or  rough  logs,  of  mahogany  colour,  with  a  roof 
of  bark. 

Near  it  were  one  or  two  smaller  huts  for  the  assistants, 
and  buildings  and  enclosures  for  cattle  stretched  away  in 
the  background. 

"  This  is  the  celebrated  cattle  station  of  Gobberalong," 
said  Joe  Freeman,  with  a  crack  of  his  whip,  "  and  you're 
as  welcome  to  it  as  a  nugget  to  a  digger.  No  ceremony, 
now. " 

And  having  dismounted,  he  pushed  open  the  door,  and 
invited  them  to  enter. 

Inside  the  place  was  "rough  and  ready,"  but  comfort- 
able, divided  into  two  rooms,  one  of  which  did  duty  for 
kitchen  and  sitting-room. 

"This  is  my  crib,"  observed  Joe,  "  and  I  must  leave 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  1 13 

you  while  we  '  yard  '  the  bullocks,  when  I  shall  be  ready 
for  something  in  the  provision  line,  as  I  dare  say  you 
will.  Pete,  old  boy,  put  on  some  extra  rations,  will  you  ? 
Steak  and  damper  for  half-a-dozen,  at  least." 

At  length  driving  in  the  cattle  was  accomplished,  and 
the  stockman,  hot,  dusty  and  exhausted,  returned  to  his 
guests. 

"There,  I  think  we've  fixed  'em  all  now,"  said  the  stock- 
man, "  and  I'm  ready  for  tea  and  dampers.  Hope  they're 
ready  for  me,  Pete." 

"Right  you  are,  boss,"  responded  the  hut-keeper,  "  but 
I  never  dreamt  as  you  had  such  a  lot  of  company  coming, 
and  I've  had  all  my  work  to  make  preparations  accordin'.  " 

"Sit  round,  chums,"  said  the  stockman;  "all's  wel- 
come here.  We  don't  see  new  faces  too  often  to  get  tired 
of  'em.  Well,  I'm  glad  to  say  my  work's  done  for  to- 
day. " 

And  sitting  down  in  his  chair  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  he 
took  off  his  cabbage-tree  hat,  hurled  his  formidable  stock- 
whip in  a  corner,  and  with  Jimalong's  assistance,  divested 
himself  of  his  ponderous  jack-boots. 

"Well,"  whispered  young  Jack  to  Harry,  "  this  seems 
all  very  comfortable." 

"Yes,  but  I  don't  mean  to  be  deceived  by  appearances, 
I  can  tell  you." 

' '  How  do  you  mean  ? " 

"Why,  I  fear  these  men  are  friends  of  the  bushrangers — 
in  league  with  Morgan." 

By  the  time  all  this  had  been  said,  the  "  dampers" 
were  done,  also  some  prime  rump-steaks,  "grown  on  the 
premises,"  as  Joe  Freeman  whimsically  expressed  it. 

"Not  much  fear  of  bushrangers  here,"  said  young  Jack  to 
Harry. 

The  tea  was  of  the  finest  and  strongest  (coming  direct 
from  China),  and  for  fear  it  shouldn't  be  strong  enough, 
the  stockman  "  diluted  "  it  with  brandy. 

"That's  not  a  bad  idea  of  yours,  my  friend,"  said  Mr. 
Mole,  seeing  him  do  this.  "  Hand  me  the  flask,  please.^ 
And  he  was  soon  clutching  a  formidable  ' '  leather  bottell, " 
containing  at  least  a  quart  of  the  alcholic  liquid,  which, 
next  to  rum,  was  the  object  of  his  most  passionate  adora- 
tion. 

"It  corrects  the  rawness  of  the  tea,  you  see,"  he  ex- 
8 


114  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON  *S 

plained,  as  he  continued  to  pour  it  into  the  cup  ;  "  besides, 
being  in  itself  of  a  nourishing  and  stimulating  quality,  so 
much  so,  that  the  faculty  in  England  have  of  late  years 
administered  brandy  in  all  cases  of " 

"Take  care,  sir,"  said  young  Jack,  "you'll  spill  it. 
You're  brimming  the  cup  over." 

"Dear  me!  so  I  am,"  said  Mr.  Mole.  "It  has  half 
filled  my  saucer  as  well  ;  but  I  can't  put  it  back  now.  I 
really  didn't  mean  to  take  so  much  ;  it  was  quite  an  acci- 
dent. Never  mind;  there  are  worse  misfortunes  than 
that." 

"A  great  deal  worse  ones — for  him,  I  should  say," 
whispered  Harry  Girdwood  to  Jack.  "  From  his  expres- 
sion, he  evidently  enjoys  the  accident  a  good  deal." 

"  Well,  I  declare  ! ''  cried  old  Mole,  drinking  the  beverage 
out  of  the  saucer  with  a  loud  "  swoop,"  of  enjoyment, 
"  if  it  isn't  exactly  like  '  Robur,  the  new  tea  spirit!' 
Shouldn't  wonder  if  this  is  how  it's  made.  Well,  this 
suits  me  capitally,  and  I  recommend  you,  my  boys,  to  do 
likewise." 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  Jack.  "I  prefer  my  tea  and 
brandy  in  separate  parcels.  They  don't  agree  well  when 
mixed.  The  very  smell  of  it  always  puts  me  in  mind  of 
sea-sickness." 

"What do  you  think,  pals?  "  said  Joe.  "I  propose  we 
all  go  out  kangarooing  to-morrow  morning.  A  twenty- 
mile  run  or  so  after  a  '  boomah  '  you'll  find  good  sport. 
Did  you  ever  try  it  on  ?  " 

"Never,"  answered  young  Jack  ;  "  no  more  have  any 
of  my  friends  here,  I  don't  think,  have  you,  boys?  " 

Harry  Girdwood  replied  in  the  negative,  to  which  Sunday 
and  Monday  also  added  a  disclaimer. 

Mr.  Mole,  who  was  busily  occupied  in  sugaring  his  tea, 
shook  his  head  solemnly. 

"  It's  the  finest  sport  in  the  world,"  proceeded  the  stock- 
man, enthusiastically.  "Talk  of  your  fox-hunting,  with 
your  kid-glove  sportsmen  in  dandy  clothes,  and  horses  as 
smooth  and  tame  as  kittens,  and  all  for  chivying  after 
a  miserable  varmint  no  bigger  than  a  colley-pup  !  give  me 
a  spell  on  one  of  our  half-wild  bush  horses,  after  an  old 
man  kangaroo  ;  that's  your  sort !  " 

"Is  there  plenty  of  big  game  about  here?  "  asked  young 
Jack. 


X L  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  i  j 5 

"Plenty  of  every  game,"  answered  the  stockman; 
"kangaroos,  dingoes,  emeus,  bustards,  not  to  mention 
wombats,  bandicoots,  and  the  native  devil.  I  could  keep 
you  well  supplied  with  good  sport  if  you  were  to  stop  here 
a  twelvemonth. 

"  But  can  you  mount  us  all?"  asked  Harry. 

"Mount  you?  Why,  haven't  you  seen  what  a  little 
lot  of  horses  we've  got  in  this  station  alone  ?  My  gov- 
ernor could  mount  half-a-dozen  regiments  of  cavalry,  at 
a  few  days'  notice  to  collect  'em." 

"But  they're  all  so  wild,"  said  Jack. 

"  Oh,  we  don't  take  long  breaking  'em  in  by  our  sys- 
tem, "  answered  the  stock-rider.  ' '  We're  rough  and  ready, 
we  are,  and  I'll  guarantee  to  take  the  nonsense  out  of  the 
wildest  colt  in  the  colony  under  a  week,  unless  he's  got 
the  very  devil  himself  into  him.  But  I  always  keep  half- 
a-dozen  good  tame  ones  in  the  stable,  and  that  will  be 
enough  for  all  of  you. " 

"  I'll  tell  you  one  person  you'll  not  be  able  to  mount 
easily,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  "and  that's  myself." 

"Well,  it  will  be  rather  a  difficulty,"  the  bushman  ad- 
mitted, looking  at  the  ex-usher's  wooden  pins. 

"  I  certainly  do  find  it  so  in  general,  Mr.  Freeman,  I 
assure  you,"  said  Mole,  "  not  from  any  deficiency  in  my 
equestrian  capabilities — oh,  dear,  no  ;  I  could  ride  like 
Mazeppa  himself,  if  I  only  had  my  legs. 

"  My  legs,"  repeated  Isaac,  sentimentally,  apostrophis- 
ing the  roof  of  the  hut,  "  my  unfortunate  understandings. 
Alas  !  they  are  gone  for  ever.  I  wonder  where  they  are 
now,  and  what  they  are  doing?  How  true  it  is  that 
'  absence  makes  the  heart  grow  fonder.'  Oh,  my  poor 
old  legs." 

And  the  veteran  \viped  away  a  tear  just  in  time  to  pre- 
vent it  falling  into  his  cup  of  (brandied)  tea. 

"I  tell  you  what  we  might  do,  Mr.  Mole,"  sugges- 
ted Jack.  "  We  could  have  you  tied  to  the  saddle,  and 
your  wooden  legs  encased  in  jack-boots,  fastened  to  the 
horse's  girths.  You  couldn't  tumble  off  then,  and  you 
would  have  your  hands  free  to  guide  the  animal." 

"Especially  if  mounted  on  some  spirited  and  sensible 
critter  such  as  I  can  recommend,"  added  the  stockman. 

"It  mustn't  be  too  spirited, "'said  Mr.  Mole,  who  had 
still  some  lurking  doubt  as  to  his  riding  powers. 


1 1 6  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"No;  but  such  an  animal  as  my  mare  Wildfire  would 
suit  you  to  an  ace,  I  know." 

"  Wildfire  !  Don't  like  the  name — sounds  rather  omin- 
ous," said  Mr.  Mole,  shaking  his  head;  "too  spirited,  I 
fear,  for  a  fellow  who's  not  so  young  as  he  was,  and  hasn't 
his  proper  quantum  of  leg." 

"Well,  now,  I  know  a  horse  that  might  have  been 
made  for  you,"  said  Joe,  "a  quiet  old  nag,  called  Milk- 
and-Water,  from  his  mild  disposition  and  his  sort  of 
sky-blue  colour." 

" Milk-and-Water,  eh?  I  like  that  better,"  said  Mr. 
Mole. 

"Not  so  well  as  he  likes  milk  and  rum,  though,"  ob- 
served Harry  Gird  wood  to  Jack  in  an  undertone. 

"If  it  can  be  done  safely,"  concluded  Mr.  Mole,  "noth- 
ing will  please  me  better  than  joining  in  the  hunt.  Re- 
serve Milk-and-Water  for  me,  will  you  ? " 

"  Certainly,  with  pleasure,"  answered  the  cattle-keeper, 
with  a  half-concealed  smile  about  his  countenance. 

Mr.  Mole  having  drank  another  nice  cup  of  tea,  well 
fortified,  now  grew  loquacious. 

"Ah,"  he  said,  looking  out  at  the  wild  landscape,  "  this 
puts  me  in  mind  of  old  times." 

"What  times?"  asked  Jack  and  Harry,  in  astonish- 
ment ;  "do  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  you  have  been  to 
Australia  before  ? " 

"I  did,  my  boy,  I  did,"  answered  the  veracious  tutor. 
"  I  never  told  you  of  it,  nor  anyone  else,  for  it's  one  of 
those  things  not  generally  known  ;  but  I  emigrated  during 
the  gold  fever,  and  stopped  a  year  and  a  half." 

"  Why  didn't  you  stop  altogether?  "  asked  Joe. 

"No  use,  you  see.  Rough  times.  I  had  some  sport, 
though  ;  went  gold-digging." 

"Harry,"  said  Jack  aside,  "old  Mole's  at  his  Mun- 
chausen  crammers  again." 

"It's  the  tea  that's  done  it,"  answered  his  friend. 

"  Find  any  gold  in  the  diggings  ?  "  asked  the  stockman. 

"A  nugget,  somewhere  about  this  size,  that's  ail,"  an- 
swered Mr.  Mole,  holding  up  a  piece  of  damper  the  size 
of  his  hand,  "worth  some  hundreds;  but  I  got  robbed 
bringing  it  home  ;  and  then  I  was  sent  out  with  a  govern- 
ment party  to  capture  two  runaway  convicts.  I  got  sep- 
arated from  the  others  and  met  the  two  ruffians  face  to 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  i  r  7 

face  in  a  lonely  gully.  We  had  an  awful  fight.  I  knocked 
down  one  and  overpowered  the  other,  and  at  last  had  the 
good  luck  to  deliver  them  both  alive  into  the  hands  of  the 
government." 

"  Plucky  fellow  !  "  exclaimed  the  bushman.  "  And  you 
got  the  reward,  of  course  ? " 

"Two  hundred  pounds,  "replied  Mr.  Mole  ;  "but  I  got 
robbed  of  most  of  that,  too,  and  only  had  enough  left  to 
bring  me  back  to  England. " 

"  Well,"  said  Jack,  "I  am  surprised  !  You  never  told 
any  of  us  a  word  of  this  before. " 

"  No,  my  boy  ;  it  was  my  modesty,  you  see — don't  like 
to  brag  of  one's  own  deeds,  you  know." 

"Of  course  not,"  said  young  Jack. 

"I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,"  proceeded  Mole,  "but  not 
now — not  now.  Don't  feel  very  well,  somehow." 

Mr.  Mole  indeed  showed  symptoms  of  indisposition. 

His  face  was  red,  his  eyes  bloodshot,  his  utterance 
rather  thick,  and  his  movements  very  eccentric. 

"Mustn't  drink  any  more  Robur  just  now,"  he  said, 
"too  hot — pour  it  in  the  saucer." 

In  attempting  to  do  which  he  blundered  so  that  the 
liquid  was  spilt  all  over  the  table  and  floor. 

"Dear  me,"  exclaimed  Mole,  "what  a  pity!  Beg  a 
thousand  pardons.  I'll  try  to  wipe  it  up." 

And  he  half-rolled,  half-threw  himself  on  to  his  knees,  and 
attempted  to  scrub  the  wet  floor  with  his  cabbage-tree  hat. 

But  the  effort  was  too  much,  and  he  was  soon  extended 
at  full  length  on  the  floor  in  a  state  of  unconsciousness. 

His  last  audible  words  were — 

"  Wipe  it  up — wipe  up  the  Robur." 

"Well,  if  he  ain't  far  gone,  I'm  done!"  exclaimed 
Joe  ;  "and  no  wonder.  I  ain't  got  a  weak  head  myself, 
but  sugar  me  if  I  could  take  three  cups  of  strong  bohea 
half  filled  up  with  brandy,  and  be  fit  for  much  standing 
up  after  it.  Is  he  often  took  bad  like  this  ?  " 

"Yes;  he's  unfortunately  subject  to  these  attacks," 
answered  Jack. 

"It's  a  bad  complaint,"  said  Joe.  "  I've  seen  a  good 
deal  of  it  m  my  time.  Let's  wrap  a  'possum  rug  round 
him,  and  put  him  out  of  the  way  in  a  corner." 

By  this  device  he  was  not  only  securely  folded  up  in 
the  rug,  but  "  toted  "  into  the  corner  near  the  fire. 


1 1 8  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"There,  old  fellow,  you're  safe  now,"  said  Joe, 
"Chums,  it's  getting  nigh  roosting  time;  here's  my 
nest,"  he  added,  pointing  to  the  sheep's-skin  rug  which 
he  had  laid  down  in  front  of  the  fire.  ' '  In  the  room  there 
you'll  find  a  regular  bed  which  you  young  gents  are 
welcome  to." 

"But  we  can't  think  of  turning  you  out  of  your  own 
bed  like  that,"  protested  young  Jack. 

"Turn  my  grandmother  !  Do  you  think  I  ain't  accus- 
tomed to  sleep  anywhere  and  everywhere — nowhere,  for 
the  matter  o'  that  ?  One  luxury,  however,  I  can't  do 
without,  and  this  is  it." 

Taking  out  a  briar-root  pipe,  he  filled  it  with  tobacco, 
lit  it  at  the  fire,  and  saying — "Good-night,  chums  ;  pleas- 
ant dreams,"  rolled  himself  up  in  his  extempore  bed,  and 
proceeded  to  smoke  himself  to  sleep. 

*****  * 

It  was  about  five  o'clock  on  a  glorious  morning  when 
young  Jack  and  his  companions  turned  out  ;  and  then 
the  stockman  and  his  assistants  proceeded  to  tend  their 
cattle  and  turn  them  out  into  the  rich  and  boundless 
pastures. 

Mr.  Mole,  who  still  felt  some  effects  from  his  last 
night's  experiment  in  beverages,  confined  himself  to  tea 
pure  and  simple,  without  making  it  into  "  Robur. " 

By  six  o'clock  they  were  ready  for  starting. 

Jack  and  his  companions  were  well  mounted  on 
spirited  horses  of  a  breed  not  far  removed  from  the  pure 
English  hunter,  and  such  as  would  have  been  worth  a 
good  price  in  the  old  country. 

The  mounting  of  Mr.  Mole,  on  the  redoubted  steed 
"  Milk-and- Water,"  was,  after  all,  a  matter  of  no  small 
difficulty. 

It  took  the  united  efforts  of  Jimalong  and  Joe,  assisted 
by  Sunday  and  Monday,  with  suggestions  from  Jack  and 
Harry,  to  secure  the  tutor  safely  on  his  equestrian  perch. 

The  first  attempt  was  so  far  a  failure,  that  the  venerable 
Isaac,  not  being  properly  balanced,  pitched  off  on  the 
left  side  of  the  horse,  and  on  the  second  he  tumbled  off 
on  the  right,  still  more  heavily,  and  would  have  probably 
been  not  a  little  injured,  but  that  he  was  providentially 
caught  in  the  arms  of  the  Prince  of  Limbi. 

At  length  he  was  properly  fixed,  and  in  repose. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


119 


He  certainly  looked  a  very  passable,  if  not  a  mag- 
nificen*  equestrian. 

The  big  jack-boots,  drawn  up  to  the  thighs  and  fast- 
ened there  with  straps,  were  so  natural  in  appearance, 
that  no  one  out  of  the  secret  would  have  known  but  what 
they  concealed  real  legs  ;  or,  to  describe  it  in  the  facetious 
terms  used  by  young  Jack,  no  one  would  have  sup- 
posed that  "  Mole's  entire  "  was  destitute  of  two  leading 
members  of  the  firm. 

The  proof  of  the  pudding,  however,  is  in  the  eating, 
and  it  remained  to  be  seen  how  Mr.  Mole  would  get  on. 

When  the  chase  came  to  be  in  full  swing,  certain  rest- 
less symptoms  on  the  part  of  Milk-and-Water  more  than 
once  made  Isaac  apprehensive  that  he  was  not  so  quiet  a 
steed  as  his  name  and  reputation  would  imply. 

Little  did  he  suspect  that  the  animal  in  question  was 
really  one  of  the  most  spirited  in  Joe  Freeman's  whole 
stud,  named,  indeed,  "by  the  rule  of  contrary,"  and  that 
Jack  and  Harry  had  connived  at  this  heartless  deception. 

Jimalong  now  appeared,  holding  with  some  difficulty 
four  large  dogs,  a  cross  between  fox  and  greyhounds. 

The  party  had  to  get  over  some  miles  before  they  roused 
the  game,  notwithstanding  that  Joe  had  declared  his 
region  to  be  "chock  full"  of  kangaroos,  but  at  length  a 
fine  specimen  of  that  tribe  was  discovered,  and  gave  hopes 
of  some  lively  sport 

"A  boomah !  a  boomah  !  "  was  now  the  cry,  first 
started  by  Jimalong,  whose  savage  power  of  eyesight  en- 
abled him  to  be  the  first  to  espy  the  game,  and  the  dogs 
gave  tongue  at  the  same  moment  as  they  also  sighted  it 

"Cobbon — good,  good!"  exclaimed  Jimalong;  "big 
kangaroo,  old  man  boomah  ! " 

It  was  indeed  a  boomah,  a  magnificent  specimen  of  the 
kangaroo  tribe,  measuring  at  least,  six  feet  in  height,  and 
mighty  of  haunch  and  extent  of  hind  leg. 

He  was  standing  feeding  upon  a  patch  of  long  grass 
when  he  first  became  aware  of  his  enemies'  approach. 

He  instantly  raised  his  head,  looked  round  at  them, 
paused  a  moment,  and  then  bounded  off  in  gigantic  leaps 
of  twenty  or  thirty  feet  each. 

"Loose  the  dogs,  Jimalong,"  cried  Joe  Freeman. 
"Now,  then,  my  boys,  sit  fast,  and  prepare  for  a  run ; 
we're  going  to  have  some  sport" 


120  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

It  was  all  very  well  to  say  "sit  fast,"  but  Mr. Mole,  fov 
one,  could  not  well  obey  the  order. 

In  the  first  place,  his  steed,  Milk-and-Water  at  the  verj 
first  signal  for  the  chase,  started  off  like  a  war-horse  a\ 
the  trump  of  battle,  giving  his  rider,  who  was  not  pre- 
pared for  such  a  sudden  movement,  a  considerable  shock, 
and  causing  him  to  clutch  the  reins  tightly. 

As  the  horse  quickened  its  pace,  too,  he  found  truit, 
despite  what  he  considered  the  security  of  his  fastenings. 
he  began  to  "joggle  "  and  bump  about  in  the  saddle  in  a 
manner  that  was  decidedly  unpleasant,  and  such  as  he 
had  by  no  means  bargained  for. 

He  could  do  nothing  at  all  to  control  the  steed,  and  his 
helpless  wooden  legs  rattled,  as  he  went,  inside  the  bi^ 
jack-boots,  like  a  thin  rapier  in  the  scabbard  of  a  gigantic 
broadsword. 

But  Mole's  courage  did  not  give  way  yet,  or  rather,  he 
would  not  show  that  he  was  frightened.  So  he  forced  his 
features  into  a  smile,  which  was  a  ghastly  imitation  of 
enjoyment  and  high  spirits. 

"Tally  ho  !  tally  ho  !  "  and  away  went  the  kangaroo 
taking  a  downhill  course,  as  these  creatures  generally  do, 
for  then  their  wondrous  powers  of  speed  are  still  further 
increased,  and  their  enormous  leaps  even  more  extended. 

No  British  red  deer  of  old,  with  Robin  Hood  and  his 
merry  men  behind  him,  could  have  ever  been  fleeter  than 
this  Australian  substitute  for  the  former  quadruped,  to 
which,  in  size  and  colour,  he  bore  no  slight  resemblance, 
though  the  mode  of  progress  was  so  different. 

The  dogs  made  after  the  game  at  full  stretch,  and  the 
whole  party  were  soon  in  the  excitement  of  a  rapid  chase. 

For  a  mile  or  two  they  seemed  to  be  gaining  on  trie 
kangaroo,  whose  pace  seemed  relaxing  as  if  by  exhaus- 
tion. 

Jack  and  Harry  thought  the  run  would  be  a  short  one 
after  all. 

Poor  Mr.  Mole  who  got  more  and  more  uncomfortable 
as  they  proceeded,  devoutly  hoped  that  it  would. 

But  Joe,  as  an  experienced  "  kangarooer, "  knew  the 
tricks  of  those  animals  too  well  for  that. 

"The  critter's  only  reserving  his  strength,"  he  said; 
"wait  till  we  gain  on  him  a  little  more,  and  then  see 
what  a  spurt  he'll  put  on." 


AD  VENTURES  /TV  A  USTRALIA.  1 2 i 

And  indeed  so  it  proved,  for  when  the  dogs  seemed  to 
be  gaining  on  their  prey,  they  suddenly  saw  the  animal 
turn,  and  hopping  over  a  high  bush,  set  off  over  the  ooen 
ground  at  a  pace  greater  than  he  had  before  attained. 

It  was  indeed  an  exciting  and  exhilarating  race. 

"Tally  ho  !  tally  ho  !  "  again  cried  Joe  Freeman. 

"Tally  ho  !  tally  ho  !  "  faintly  cried  poor  old  Mole. 

As  they  proceed'ed  they  roused  other  game. 

The  bandicoot  and  wombat,  seeing  and  hearing  the 
threatening  cavalcade,  scuttled  back  to  their  retreat. 

Sometimes  herds  of  kangaroos  of  the  smaller  kinds 
would  be  roused  and  join  the  pursued  one. 

But  the  dogs,  undistracted  by  these  fresh  objects  of 
pursuit,  ever  kept  their  attention  to  the  splendid  quarry 
they  were  resolved  on  bringing  down. 

And  how  fared  that  gallant  sportsman,  Mr.  Mole? 

Alas  !  although  he  was  destined  that  day  to  do  prod* 
igies  of  valour,  he  was  any  thing  but  enjoying  himself. 

Every  moment  his  fastenings  seemed  to  become  looser, 
the  saddle  harder,  his  imprisoned  wooden  legs  more  heir> 
less. 

Every  moment  Milk-and-Water  behaved  more  like 
Mazeppa's  famous  Tartar  steed. 

"Not  much  milk  and  water  about  him,  after  all," 
thought  Mr.  Mole  ;  "I  begin  to  think  he  has  been  christ- 
ened by  the  rules  of  contrary,  on  the  same  principle  as  a 
six-foot  prize-fighter  is  called  The  Infant.  Oh,  dear,  this 
is  decidedly  unpleasant.  Oh,  oh  !  " 

It  decidedly  was,  especially  when  the  steed  took  to 
leaping  over  numerous  fallen  trunks  or  thick  bushes,  or 
edging  so  close  against  the  trees  that  his  rider  had  a  diffi- 
culty in  dodging  in  time  to  prevent  being  torn  or  dragged 
by  the  branches,  and  each  of  such  perilous  escapes  per- 
ceptibly loosened  the  fastening  that  held  him  in  his 
place. 

In  the  wild  hurry  of  the  chase,  the  horsemen  got  often 
widely  separated. 

Milk-and-Water,  entirely  of  his  own  accord,  for  his 
rider  was  to  him  a  helpless  burden,  seemed  determined  to 
be  ahead  of  the  chase. 

He  shot  on  ahead  of  all  his  equine  companions,  and 
any  spectator  might  have  betted  safely  upon  his  being 
first  at  the  winning-post. 


122  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  JUS  SOW 'S 

"  Oh,  I  say,  isn't  Mole  going  ahead?  "  exclaimed  Jack, 
spying  him  from  a  distance. 

"  Or  rather  his  horse  is,"  replied  Gird  wood  ;  "I  don't 
believe  the  old  boy's  urging  him  on  ;  more  the  other 
way." 

"Bravo,  Mole — you'll  be  first  in  the  finish,"  shouted 
Jack,  waving  his  hat,  for  he  knew  it  was  too  far  for  his 
congratulations  to  be  heard  by  their  object. 

Mole  waved  his  cabbage-tree  headgear  in  response, 
but  in  so  doing,  struck  it  against  a  tree  with  such  violence, 
that  not  only  was  the  hat  hopelessly  smashed,  but  his 
hand  also  received  a  knock  that  made  him  roar. 

He  bent  forward,  clutching  the  mane  and  reins  with  all 
his  might,  for  he  felt  the  straps  that  had  fastened  his 
boots  to  the  girth  snap  altogether,  and  his  only  hope  of 
keeping  on  lay  in  his  arms  and  hands. 

Thus  again  he  urged  on  his  wild  career,  the  boots  dang- 
ling loose  in  the  stirrups  in  a  manner  ludicrous  to  others, 
but  not  pleasant  to  the  sufferer. 

And  a  sufferer  Mr.  Mole  certainly  was. 

An  hour  and  a  half  had  this  exciting  chase  continued. 

The  kangaroo  was  showing  unmistakable  signs  of  ex- 
haustion, the  dogs  were  gaining  on  him,  and  at  length 
there  was  a  wild  shout  of  triumph  from  the  huntsmen 
when  they  perceived  the  foremost  hound  had  reached  the 
quarry,  which  stood  backed  against  a  tree  as  if  at  bay. 

"That's  cooked  him.  I  believe,  my  boys,"  cried  Joe. 

But  it  was  not  so  yet ;  the  kangaroo  waited  for  his 
enemy  to  approach,  and  then  simultaneously  with  the 
rush  upon  him,  met  the  dog  by  upraising  one  of  his  hind 
feet. 

With  the  long  sharp  claw,  the  boomah,  now  towering 
up  to  his  six  feet  of  height,  ripped  up  the  flank  of  the  poor 
dog,  which,  with  a  dismal  howl,  rolled  backwards  on  the 
sward,  and  expired. 

The  boomah  then  recommenced  his  flight,  and  ere  the 
other  dogs  could  come  up,  he  was  some  distance  be- 
yond them. 

"Oh,  he's  off  towards  the  Wurree-Wurree  River,"  said 
Joe,  as  he  rode  up  to  his  companions  ;  "  he'll  take  to  the 
water  now.  That's  their  last  dodge,  but  it  won't  help 
him  very  much.  I'm  sorry  for  poor  Ponto,  though,  and  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  we  lose  another  before  we've  done." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTKALIA.  j  2^ 

"By  Jove!  Look  at  Mole  now,"  cried  Harry  Gird- 
wood  ;  "he  seems  determined  to  top  us  all  in  speed." 

"  Milk-and- Water  certainly  is  a  devil  to  go,"  said  the 
stockman,  gazing- admiringly  at  that  flying  steed.  "Up 
to  this,  I  should  always  have  laid  odds  on  Wildfire  but 
Milky  beats  her." 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  despite  his  perilous  position,  an 
exhilarated,  triumphant,  and  ambitious  feeling  entered 
into  Mole's  heart. 

He  saw  that  he  had  distanced  his  companions,  and  he 
perceived  that  the  kangaroo  was  nearing  the  water, 
where  he  would  probably  be  at  bay,  and  he  saw  not  why 
he — even  he,  the  unappreciated  Isaac,  should  not  be  first 
in  at  the  death,  and  even  kill  the  kangaroo  himself.  It 
would  be  a  glorious  achievement,  and  one  to  talk  of  and 
enlarge  upon  for  ever  afterwards. 

He  had  a  knife  and  a  pistol,  and  it  was  indeed  hard 
that  the  suffering  he  had  undergone  during  their  terrible 
ride,  should  not  be  compensated  by  some  triumph. 

A  fresh  jerk  of  great  violence,  as  his  horse  made  a 
bound  down  hill,  nearly  unseated  Mr.  Mole  in  the  midst 
of  these  rapid  but  inspiring  reflections  ;  and  one  of  the  jack- 
boots, knocked  out  of  the  stirrup  by  the  same  movement, 
slid  off,  leaving  one  of  the  timber  toes  exposed,  and 
greatly  increasing  the  rider's  peril. 

The  glistening  silver  winding  of  the  Wurree-Wurree 
River  now  hove  in  sight,  and  the  kangaroo,  closely  pur- 
sued by  the  remaining  dogs,  was  making  towards  it. 

Arrived  at  the  bank  he  made  a  mighty  plunge,  alighting 
about  in  the  centre. 

The  dogs  were  after  him  in  a  moment  and  one  swim- 
ming up  to  him,  tried  to  fly  at  his  throat,  but  the  old  man 
now  firmly  planted  upright  on  his  place  of  vantage,  his 
fore  feet  and  the  upper  part  of  his  body  rising  above  the 
water,  received  the  attack  with  the  boldness  of  desperation. 

Gripping  the  dog  with  his  claw,  he  struggled  not  only 
to  prevent  being  fastened  upon,  but  to  get  the  head  of  his 
assailant  under  water. 

This,  after  a  few  minutes'  struggle,  and  some  injuries 
inflicted  by  the  dog,  the  boomah  accomplished,  and  the 
gallant  beast's  head  was  kept  under  until  .ve  was  suffo- 
cated by  the  object  of  his  pursuit,  who  had  only  two  dogs 
to  contend  with. 


124  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

Mole  had  little  time  for  calm  observation. 

Hurried  along  breathlessly  after  the  dogs,  jolted  right 
and  left,  and  hanging  on  only  by  a  miracle,  he  arrived  at 
the  bank  of  the  river,  Jack  and  the  others  being  still  a 
considerable  distance  behind  him. 

All  resolutions  as  to  what  he  should  do  next  were 
put  a  stop  to  by  the  independent  action  of  Milk-and- 
Water. 

That  spirited  steed  evidently  had  no  great  liking  for  the 
latter  element,  for  no  sooner  had  he  reached  the  bank, 
than  resolving  neither  to  enter  the  water  nor  to  put  up 
any  longer  with  his  useless  rider,  he  made  a  halt  so  sudden, 
and  kicked  up  hindward  so  vigorously,  that  Mr.  Mole  was 
jerked  into  the  river  as  easily  as  a  stone  out  of  a  sling. 

He  fell  with  a  cry  of  alarm  and  surprise.  The  shock 
was  all  the  more  considerable  as  he  was  not  prepared  for 
it,  and  in  fact  for  the  moment  he  believed  that  he  had  had 
all  the  life  knocked  out  of  him. 

In  a  few  moments,  however,  he  rose  fully  to  the  sur- 
face, and  found  himself  within  a  few  feet  of  where  the 
kangaroo  stood  at  bay,  facing  the  remaining  dogs. 

Seeing  the  fate  of  their  companions,  these  animals  were 
rather  chary  of  attacking  their  gigantic  quarry,  and  indeed 
the  boomah,  now  towering  up  as  tall  as  a  giraffe,  at  least 
in  Mr.  Mole's  eyes,  did  look  very  formidable. 

But  the  courage  of  Isaac  at  this  sensational  crisis  reas- 
serted itself,  and  he  resolved  to  take  the  opportunity  of 
killing  the  kangaroo,  and  covering  himself  with  glory. 
Waving  his  knife  with  one  hand,  with  the  other,  assisted 
by  his  wooden  legs,  he  swam  frog-fashion  up  to  the  creat- 
ure, and  when  near  enough,  aimed  a  stroke  at  it  with  the 
long  sharp  knife. 

But  the  kangaroo,  taking  him  for  another  species  of 
dog,  or,  at  least,  determined  that,  if  possible,  he  should 
die  in  the  same  manner  as  the  last  assailant,  began  attack- 
ing him  with  his  powerful  fore  feet. 

In  an  instant  the  bosom  of  Mr.  Mole's  shirt  was  ripped 
up  by  the  sharp  claws  of  the  kangaroo,  and  but  for  the 
undershirt,  a  deep  wound  would  have  been  inflicted. 

Then  the  infuriated  animal  fastened  its  claws  on  Mole's 
neck,  and  strove  to  get  his  head  under  water. 

Mr.  Mole  was  at  his  last  gasp. 

He  nensr  dreamt  "  the  oW  man  had  so  much  blood  in 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  x  2$ 

him  "  (to  quote  our  friend  Macbeth),  and  he  gave  himself 
up  for  lost,  and,  regardless  of  valour,  bawled  out — 

"  Oh,  why  did  I  come  hunting?    Help,  help  !  " 

A  report  came  from  the  pistol  of  young  Jack,  who,  with 
his  comrades,  had  now  reached  the  bank. 

With  excellent  aim — and  it  was  a  dangerous  experi- 
ment, considering  how  closely  Mole  was  struggling  with 
the  animal — Jack  levelled  at  the  kangaroo's  head,  and  so 
well  did  the  shot  take  effect,  that  in  a  moment  the  animal 
relaxed  its  hold  on  Mole,  and  rolled  over  dead  in  the  water. 

The  intrepid  Isaac,  breathless  and  exhausted,  was  soon 
lifted  out  of  the  water  by  Joe  and  Jimalong,  and  dragged 
up  the  bank. 

"  You've  had  a  narrow  escape,  my  friend,  I  can  tell  you," 
said  the  stockman.  "Whatever  made  you  get  so  close 
to  the  boomah  like  that?  Why,  you  have  got  the  courage 
of  a  giant,  sir.  I  know  I  shouldn't  like  to  do  it,  for  the 
critter's  a  devil  at  close  quarters." 

"For  Heaven's  sake  a  glass  of  rum, "gasped  Mole; 
"  I'm  dying. " 

' '  Lucky  I've  not  come  unprovided, "  said  Joe,  the  stock- 
man, taking  a  flask  from  his  pocket  and  holding  it  to  the 
lips  of  Mr.  Mole,  which  closed  upon  it,  and  for  several 
seconds  held  it  tight  by  the  force  of  suction. 

"Now  land  the  game,  boys,  and  let's  cut  it  up,"  said 
the  stockman.  "We've  had  fine  sport,  barring  the  loss 
of  the  dogs,  who  were  worth  more  to  me  than  a  dozen 
boomahs. " 

Under  the  influence  of  his  favourite  remedy,  combined 
with  the  geniality  of  the  Australian  sun,  Mr.  Mole  was 
not  very  long  in  recovering  from  the  effects  of  his  ducking, 
his  fright,  and  his  exhaustion. 

At  all  events  he  was  able  to  take  part  in  the  species  of 
picnic  which  followed. 

It  was  a  lovely  and  enjoyable  scene,  with  the  lofty  forest 
trees  towering  above  them. 

Flocks  of  parrots  chattered  overhead,  or  flew  whistling 
to  and  fro,  their  magnificent  plumage  glistening  in  the 
sunlight,  and  there  was  one  bird,  the  organ  magpie,  that 
enlivened  their  picnic  with  a  song  as  tuneful  as  that  of  a 
nightingale. 

"This  is  delightful,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  who  still  kept  the 
rum  bottle  all  to  himself.  He  had  mixed  it  with  water 


126  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

just  to  his  own  liking,  though  he  drank  out  of  the  bottle. 
"Delightful — perfect  paradise.  Here's  success  to  kan- 
garooing. " 

"  And  to  the  health  of  the  mighty  hunter,  Isaac  Mole," 
returned  Jack  and  Harry. 

"And  his  horse,  Milk-and-Water,"  added  Joe,  pointing 
to  that  animal,  who  was  now  tied  up  to  a  tree,  and  peace- 
fully grazing. 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  what  anybody  says,"  protested  the 
tutor.  "  I've  done  my  duty  as  an  Englishman.  I  con- 
sider I've  won  the  honours  of  the  day.  Didn't  I  ride  in 
front  of  all  of  you,  and  get  in  at  the  death  first?  Didn't  I 
grapple  with  the  monster  in  a  death-struggle  after  he  had 
killed  two  dogs,  and  finish  him  off  with  a  blow  of  my 
knife  ? 

"Am  not  I  the  hero  of  the  fight?"  he  added,  after  a 
pause. 

"  I  rather  fancy  it  was  my  shot  that  settled  the  kanga- 
roo," said  young  Jack,  quietly  ;  "  look,  here's  the  mark 
where  the  bullet  went  through  his  head." 

"  Yes,  but  observe  how  his  throat  is  gashed  about," 
said  the  tutor.  "  I  did  that,  at  close  quarters,  and  alone, 
my  boy." 

"More  like  where  the  dogs  attacked  him,"  said  Joe  ; 
"you  couldn't  do  much  with  your  knife  when  we  found 
you — much  as  you  could  do  to  keep  your  head  above 
water — ha,  ha  ?  " 

"Ah,  well,  for  all  you  say,  it  was  I  that  settled  the 
kangaroo,"  said  Mole,  decisively,  "  and  considering  the 
size  of  the  animal,  and  the  run  he  gave  us,  that  isn't  so 
bad  for  the  first  day's  sport  for  a  new  chum." 

"A  new  chum  !  "  exclaimed  the  stockman.  "I  thought 
you  were  an  old  hand,  mate.  Didn't  you  tell  us  you 
were  over  in  the  colony  before?  " 

"I !     When  ?"  asked  Mole,  in  surprise. 

"Last  night.  You  told  us  how  you  came  over  during 
the  gold  rush,  and  went  to  the  diggings  and  got  a  nugget, 
and  got  robbed  of  it,  and  then  went  and  captured  two 
convicts  with  your  own  hands  ;  don't  you  remember  ?  " 

"  Impossible  !  "  exclaimed  Isaac.  "  I  never  could  have 
made  any  such  statement." 

"You  certainly  said  so,  though,"  said  young  Jack. 
"  Didn't  he,  Harry  !  " 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


I27 


"  Of  course  he  did,"  acquiesced  Harry  Girdwood. 

"You're  having  a  joke  on  me,  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Mole, 
adjusting  his  spectacles.  "  If  I  said  all  that,  I  must  have 
been  suffering  from  delirium  tremens,  or " 

"  Tea  and  brandy,   alias    Robur,"  supplied  Jack. 

"Hush,  my  boy,  say  no  more,  you  hurt  my  feelings," 
said  the  tutor.  "  I  fancy  now  that  the  tea  was  a  little  too 
strong.  But,  after  all,  the  adventures  I  told  you  were  all 
true,  only  they  happened  to  a  second  cousin  of  mine,  and 
not  to  myself." 

"By  that  line  of  argumenting,  friend,"  observed  the 
stockrider,  "  you  might  describe  how  you  won  two  great 
victories,  and  then  say  afterwards — 'All this  is  quite  true, 
only  it  didn't  happen  exactly  to  me,  but  the  Duke  of 
Wellington.' " 

A  laugh  was  raised  by  this  application  of  Mr.  Mole's 
sophistry,  and  he  felt  he  was  rather  getting  the  worst  of 
the  joke. 

"  No  matter,"  said  he,  "  a  day  will  come,  as  they  say 
on  the  stage,  or  rather,  a  day  has  come — a  day  of  triumph 
for  Mole — Mole,  the  great  kangaroo  hunter.  Behold,  here 
is  the  ocular  proof." 

And  he  swung  round  him  the  huge  tail  of  the  slaughtered 
animal. 

"Ask  me  not  to  part  with  it,"  he  exclaimed,  rising 
excitedly  in  an  upright  posture.  "I  wish  I  had  full  use 
of  my  legs,  I'd  get  up  and  try  a  pas  de  joie,  I  feel  so 
delighted.  Isn't  it  a  magnificent  one  ? — six  feet  long  at 
least.  I'll  keep  it  just  as  it  is,  so  that  nobody  may  doubt 
my  statement  as  to  the  size  of  the  quadruped  it  originally 
belonged  to.  I'll  treasure  it  as  my  own  life,"  he  added, 
again  swinging  the  formidable  appendage  in  such  a 
manner  that  Jack  and  Harry  narrowly  escaped  getting  a 
blow  from  it. 

From  this  condition  of  exhilaration  Mr.  Mole  passed 
to  the  opposite  extreme  of  quiescence — in  other  words,  he 
began  to  feel  drowsy,  and  at  last  went  off  into  a  sound 
doze,  with  his  back  resting  against  a  tree,  the  rum  bottle 
in  one  hand  and  the  kangaroo's  tail  in  the  other. 

The  others  continued  their  conversation,  when  they 
were  suddenly  interrupted  by  a  fearful  sound  proceeding 
from  the  thick  forest  behind  them  ;  it  resembled  the  war- 
whoop  of  the  American  Indian  tribes. 


128  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

Simultaneously,  a  long  spear  came  whizzing  into  the 
midst  of  the  seated  circle,  grazing  the  shoulder  of  Joe, 
but  fortunately  sliding  on  to  the  grass  without  injuring 
any  one. 

"Natives!"  exclaimed  the  stockman,  starting  to  his 
feet ;  "look  out,  chums,  they're  upon  us  !  " 

Sure  enough,  a  crowd  of  dark  figures,  tall,  muscular, 
and  nearly  naked,  with  frizzly  heads  and  negro  features, 
burst  from  the  dense  forest  upon  the  party. 

Armed  with  spears,  boomerangs,  clubs,  or  waddies, 
these  savages  were  evidently  some  of  the  most  formidable 
and  ferocious  of  their  race. 

The  whites  were  on  their  feet  in  a  moment — of  course 
excepting  Mr.  Mole — and,  drawing  their  pistols  and 
knives,  prepared  for  a  fray,  and  a  desperate  battle  suc- 
ceeded. 

The  natives  were  recognised  by  the  stockman  as  be- 
longing to  the  Wurree-Wurree  tribe,  noted  for  being  a 
scourge  to  the  white  settlers  for  their  cattle-stealing  pro- 
pensities. 

Instigated  partly  by  hatred  to  the  white  men,  but  still 
more  by  a  desire  to  possess  themselves  of  the  kangaroo 
they  had  killed,  and  if  possible  some  of  the  horses  (which 
they  used  not  for  riding,  but  for  cooking  and  eating),  they 
had  made  this  sudden  attack  on  the  unprepared  party  of 
picnickers. 

Without  firearms,  it  might  be  thought  that  the  blacks 
stood  no  chance  against  the  whites,  but  they  so  far  out- 
numbered the  attacked  party,  and  were  so  dexterous  with 
the  spear,  waddy,  and  boomerang,  that  the  odds  were 
nearly  on  their  own  side. 

Many  shots  were  fired,  and  seven  of  the  savages  fell 
dead  or  wounded,  but  Joe  Freeman  and  his  friends  soon 
found  that  the  game  was  against  them. 

At  first  the  natives  appeared  to  be  easily  driven  off,  but 
no  sooner  were  they  out  of  sight,  than,  sheltered  by  the 
trees,  they  deluged  the  whites  with  such  a  shower  of 
spears  and  boomerangs,  that  it  was  only  by  a  miracle 
they  all  escaped  killing. 

Pistols  seemed  useless  against  these  agile  savages,  who 
seemed  able  to  dodge  bullets  as  easily  as  spears. 

Jimalong,  the  "  tame  black"  stockman,  evidently  con- 
sidering "discretion  the  better  part  of  valour,"  made  off 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  129 

at  the  beginning  of  the  fray,  though  the  two  dogs,  who 
seemed  to  delight  in  the  scene,  remained  to  take  part  in  it. 

At  length,  all  the  ammunition  being  exhausted,  Joe 
Freeman  saw  that  further  fight  was  useless,  so  he  shouted 
to  his  companions  to  make  for  the  horses  before  the 
natives  could  capture  those  animals. 

All  were  in  the  saddle  in  a  moment  (always  excepting 
our  friend  Mole),  and  to  lighten  weight,  the  remains  of 
the  kangaroo  were  left  behind,  and  the  natives  pounced 
upon  them  with  a  howl  of  triumph. 

The  whites  immediately  spurred  on  their  horses,  the 
natives  giving  chase,  yelling,  screaming,  and  leaping, 
and  hurling  their  missiles  after  them  until  they  were  out 
of  sight. 

In  this  wild  stampede — for  which  our  friends  can 
scarcely  be  blamed,  for  to  stay  longer  would  have  been 
certain  death — the  redoubted  steed  Milk-and- Water  was, 
like  his  master,  left  behind. 

The  natives  thought  they  had  got  a  prize  in  this  fine 
animal,  but  no  sooner  did  they  untie  the  rope  that  fas- 
tened him,  than  he  gave  a  mighty  plunge,  sent  two  of  his 
would-be  possessors  sprawling,  and  set  off  homeward 
through  the  forest  at  a  pace  that  rendered  his  capture 
hopeless. 

The  only  remnant  of  the  hunting  party  now  left  behind 
on  the  scene  of  action,  was  the  unfortunate  tutor,  Isaac 
Mole. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  Mr.  Mole  had  been  long  ere 
this  thoroughly  roused  from  his  peaceful  slumbers  by  the 
tumult  going  on  around  him. 

For  him  to  join  in  the  fray  was  impossible ;  he  could 
not  then  rise  to  his  feet ;  all  he  could  do  was  to  bawl  out 
loudly  for  assistance. 

Never  in  all  his  wanderings  did  he  feel  more  terror  than 
when,  as  he  lay  thus  helpless  under  the  tree,  he  saw  the 
whole  lot  of  them,  intoxicated  with  their  triumph  over  the 
white  fellows,  and  their  gallant  capture  of  the  boomah 
and  a  half  empty  brandy  bottle,  come  dancing  around 
him. 

They  yelled,  they  screeched,  they  made  hideous  grim- 
aces, they  joined  in  a  savage  chant,  of  which  "  Yah-lah- 
roo  !  "  was  apparently  the  chorus,  and  seemed  determined 
to  do  their  utmost  to  frighten  old  Mole  to  death. 


130  JACK  HA  RKA  WAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

This  was  not,  however,  the  worst  he  anticipated,  for  he 
had  heard  terrible  stones  of  the  cannibalism  of  the  natives, 
and  beheld  with  a  shudder  the  formidable  grinders  of  the 
chief  and  his  followers. 

Not  that  we  imagine  that  the  spectacle  of  old  Mole, 
with  his  wooden  legs,  his  spectacles,  and  his  scared  and 
ghostly  countenance  was  particularly  appetising  even  to 
the  cannibal  mind,  but  he  feared  the  worst,  and  grasped 
his  kangaroo  tail  in  one  hand,  and  his  rum  bottle  with 
the  other,  to  defend  himself  with,  if  need  were. 

The  wooden  legs  seemed  to  astonish  the  natives  a  great 
deal ;  they  had  never  seen  any  thing  like  them  before, 
and  they  probably  regarded  the  tutor  as  some  sort  of  white 
monstrosity. 

He  endeavoured  by  signs  to  make  them  understand  his 
particular  infirmity,  and  also  to  implore  their  pity,  and  to 
make  himself  better  understood,  addressed  them  in  a  kind 
of  nigger,  or  broken  English. 

But  this  failed  to  make  them  "  comprenny,"  and  they 
jabbered  away  in  their  own  tongue  at  a  considerable  rate 
as  they  crowded  around  them,  pinched,  poked,  and 
prodded  his  wooden  legs,  and  tried  to  account  for  the 
phenomenon  in  their  own  way. 

"Oh,  Lor',"  exclaimed  Isaac  to  himself;  "here's  a 
fix  !  I  wish  I  had  a  wooden  body  as  well  as  legs,  for  then 
I  shouldn't  be  able  to  feel  the  tortures  I  know  they  mean 
me  to  go  through,  and  if  they  took  to  eat  me,  I  should 
disagree  with  them. 

"  My  good  friends,  niggers,  men  and  brudders,  please 
leab  me  alone.  I  no  good  to  chaw-chaw  at  all,  and  you 
can  have  my  two  timber  pins,  since  you've  taken  such  a 
fancy  to  'em,  if  you'll  only  spare  my  life." 

"  Kur-rur-wan-ran-kan  !  "  was  the  chiefs  only  reply  to 
this  appeal,  and  the  words  seemed  to  mean  "  lift  him  up 
and  carry  him  to  our  tents,"  for  that  is  what  two  natives, 
one  taking  Mr.  Mole  by  the  shoulders,  the  other  lifting  up 
the  wooden  legs,  immediately  proceeded  to  do. 

One  hungry-looking  savage,  with  formidable  teeth, 
made  a  sharp  bite  at  one  of  poor  Mole's  wooden  legs,  but 
did  not  seem  to  relish  the  flavour. 

It  was  no  use  to  struggle ;  he  was  as  helpless  as  an  in- 
fant in  their  hands,  and  he  could  only  appeal  more  loudly 
than  before  to  their  sense  of  compassion. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  I3I 

This,  however,  proved  to  be  equally  unavailing. 

He  was  carried  off  into  the  woods  by  his  captors. 

The  chief  looking  and  gazing  reflectively  at  the  two 
new  crutches  which  Mr.  Mole  had  left  under  the  tree. 

The  savage  evidently  thought  they  were  some  sort  of 
weapons,  but  whether  of  the  nature  of  a  gun,  a  club,  or 
a  spear,  he  could  not  make  up  his  mind. 

Poor  Mr.  Mole's  rum  bottle,  with  all  its  delicious  con- 
tents, for  he  had  not  drunk  half  of  it,  fell  as  a  trophy  into 
the  hands  of  the  chief. 

The  group  of  tents,  or  "gunyahs,"  appertaining  to  the 
Wurree-Wurree  tribe  was  situated  in  a  very  wild  gully 
or  valley. 

It  was  a  wild  and  picturesque  spot,  but  Mr.  Mole  was 
In  no  position  to  appreciate  its  beauties,  which  came  upon 
his  vision  more  in  an  upside  down  view  than  otherwise. 

For  his  bearers  carried  him — especially  down  hill — with 
his  head  hanging  much  lower  than  his  feet  would  have 
been  if  he  had  had  any. 

A  crowd  of  natives  of  all  kinds,  men,  women,  and 
children,  surrounded  the  captive  as  soon  as  he  arrived  at 
the  tents,  and  danced  round  him,  yelling,  grinning,  and 
altogether  conducting  themselves,  in  Mole's  own  words, 
as  if  they  were  not  natives  of  Australia,  but  of  Van 
Demon's  Land. 

This  joke  was  perpetrated  by  Mr.  Mole  in  describing 
the  scene  afterwards,  for  he  was  in  no  jesting  mood  at 
the  time. 

His  firm  belief  then  was  that  they  intended  to  have  him 
for  supper,  and  that  their  "  Yah-lah-roo  "  was  a  chorus  of 
delight  at  the  prospect  of  eating  a  white  man,  and  that 
his  arrival  was  hailed  as  if  he  were  provisions  brought 
into  the  camp. 

And  the  alacrity  with  which  the  natives  began  kindling 
a  fire,  evidently  for  cooking  purposes,  made  him  feel  faint 

"This  is  queer  treatment  for  a  man  who  has  graduated 
at  an  English  University,"  moaned  the  tutor,  as  he  lay 
thus.  "Strange  beings;  they  have  let  me  keep  my 
kangaroo  tail.  I  should  have  thought  they  would  have 
wanted  it  for  soup.  But  I'll  only  part  with  it  with  my 
life,  unless  I  can't  help  myself.  Bless  me,  what's  that 
smell  of  cooking  ?  " 

By  moving  a  little,  he  was  able  to  see  through  a  hole 


132  JA  CK  HARKA  WAY  AND  HIS  SON'S 

in  the  tent,  and  then  perceived  in  the  open  space  the 
natives  engaged  at  their  feast. 

They  had  kindled  a  large  fire,  and  were  squatting  round 
it. 

The  kangaroo  haunch,  cut  up  into  huge  steaks,  was 
being  grilled,  or  rather  burnt,  over  the  embers. 

These  children  of  nature  were  too  impatient  to  wait 
until  the  meat  was  done  through. 

No  sooner  was  it  a  little  browned  than  they  took  it  up, 
and  gnawed  some  off  as  it  was,  and  then  put  it  back 
again  to  cook  a  little  more. 

This  seemed  to  Mr.  Mole  a  new  and  original  way  of 
dining. 

It  was  with  a  pang  of  deep  regret  that  Mr.  Mole  saw 
his  favourite  rum  bottle  being  passed  round  from  the  chief 
to  the  warriors  whom  he  most  favoured. 

As  the  natives  were  thus  enjoying  themselves,  their 
jabbering  tones  were  gradually  stilled. 

This  comparative  stillness,  combined  with  the  heat  of 
the  day,  was  so  lulling  to  Mr.  Mole,  that  in  a  short  time 
he  actually  went  off  into  a  doze,  which  imperceptibly 
became  a  deep  slumber. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A  LADY  FALLS  IN  LOVE  WITH  MOLE  AND  PROPOSES. 

HE  was  at  length  awakened  by  strange  voices  close  to 
him,  and  found  by  the  position  of  the  sun  that  it  was  late 
in  the  day. 

He  still  lay  on  a  'possum  skin  in  the  tent,  and  a  group 
of  natives  were  peering  in  at  him  grinning  at  the  en- 
trance. 

Then  it  was  that  he  first  experienced  a  sense  of  loss,  and 
next,  to  his  inexpressible  grief,  realised  what  he  had  lost. 

It  was  his  kangaroo's  tail ! 

"My  tail,  my  kangaroo's  tail,  my  trophy  of  the  chase, 
and  only  memento  of  this  glorious  day  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
sitting  up  ;  "  who  has  taken  it?  " 

The  only  reply  was  a  shout  of  "Cobbon,  cobbon  ; 
good,  good !  "  from  the  blacks  outside,  who  seemed  to 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


'33 


regard  these  excited  observations  with  just  the  same  de- 
light as  a  child  would  the  first  speech  of  a  parrot  he  was 
teaching. 

"Where's  my  kangaroo  tail  ? "  shouted  Mole ;  "  do  you 
understand  ?  My  kan-ga-roo  tail." 

Here  the  chief,  for  whom  the  other  natives  all  made  way, 
popped  his  woolly  head,  adorned  with  cockatoo's  feathers, 
in  at  the  entrance,  and  said  with  a  wide  grin — 

"  Burra,  burra,  wa  goo,  tee-lang. " 

"Just  so, "said  Mr.  Mole;  "I  fully  agree  with  your 
remark,  only  it  don't  enlighten  me  as  to  what  end  my  tail 
has  come  to." 

And  he  called  out  again — 

"My  kangaroo  tail,"  louder  than  ever. 

To  which  the  chief  replied,  pointing  suggestively  down 
his  own  throat — 

"Kan-ga-roo  tail  soup." 

"Oh,  it's  made  into  soup,  is  it ?"  said  Mole.  "Well, 
it  was  a  mean  thing  to  come  and  take  it  from  me  when  I 
was  asleep  ;  I  ought  to  have  had  a  voice  in  the  matter. 
I  should  like  to  have  some  of  it,  at  any  rate.  I'm  getting 
rather  hungry  again  ;  bring  me  some  kangaroo-tail  soup," 
he  added,  with  a  gesture  eloquently  expressive  of  swal- 
lowing. 

"Kan-ga-roo  tail  soup,"  echoed  the  chief,  and  now 
evidently  understanding  him.  "  Yowi,  Yowi." 

And  he  gave  orders  to  his  subordinates  that  the  deli- 
cacy should  be  brought. 

Instantly  a  particularly  ugly  native,  bearing  a  mighty 
cauldron,  probably  stolen  from  some  settler's  hut,  en- 
tered, and  approached  Mole,  the  chief  and  several  other 
warriors  accompanying  him. 

' '  What's  this  ?  "  cried  Mole,  looking  in  vain  for  the  hot 
soup  he  expected. 

For  he  saw  nothing  but  a  sediment  of  dark  brown  ge- 
latinous substance,  sticking  to  the  bottom  and  edges,  in- 
side the  pot,  in  which  the  marks  of  fingers  were  plainly 
visible. 

It  might  have  been  humanly  possible  to  scrape  up  a 
few  mouthfuls  of  the  horrid  mess,  but  who  was  going  to 
do  it  ? 

"Take  it  away,"  he  cried,  with  a  gesture  of  disgust. 
"The  greedy  savages,  they've  eaten  it  all,  and  licked 


134  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOWS 

and  clawed  the  saucepan  so  dry,  that  there's  not  much 
more  than  the  smell  left,  and  now  they  offer  it  to  a  white 
man.  Ugh  !  perish  the  thought." 

"  Mor-ro-bung-keen  !  "  observed  the  chief,  grinning, 
and  then  he  disappeared  for  a  moment,  and  brought  in  a 
little  wiry  black,  whose  appearance  and  actions  reminded 
Mole  forcibly  of  his  friend  Nero. 

"I'm  Billygolong,"  he  remarked,  "tame  black  fellow  ; 
spick  white  man's  lingo." 

"Do  you?"  exclaimed  Mole.  "I'm  glad  of  it;  per- 
haps you'll  be  able  to  answer  me  a  few  questions.  Do 
your  tribe,  yon  black  fellows — Wurree  warriors — ahem  ! 
— ever  eat  white  man?" 

"Ole  chief,"  he  said,  "eat  'em  up;  other  ole  chief 
alive,  he  eat  kangaroo. " 

"  Well,  that  is  an  improvement,  I  must  say,"  observed 
Mole;  "to  give  up  cannibalism  is  a  decided  step  in  the 
path  of  civilisation.  Won't  your  people  let  me  go  ?  " 

"We  gib  up  white  mans,"  answered  Billygolong,  "if 
other  white  mans  gib  us  sheep  and  bullocks." 

"Oh,  I  see,  I  am  to  be  kept  as  a  sort  of  hostage  till  I 
am  ransomed  ;  just  like  those  villainous  brigands  do  in 
Greece.  Who  would  have  thought  these  black  rascals 
had  so  much  cunning  ?  Do  you  always  treat  white  men 
well  ? "  he  asked,  doubtfully. 

"We  kill  some,  and  eat  'em,"  answered  the  native, 
with  a  grin,  "  if  we  don't  get  bullocks  and  sheep." 

"The  devil  you  do  ;  I'm  in  danger  of  my  life,  after  all. 
What  can  be  done  ?  I  must  say  some  thing  to  frighten 
them. 

"Look  here,  you  black  fellow,  it  won't  do  for  any  thing 
to  happen  to  me  here.  Do  you  know  who  I  am  ?" 

The  savage  shook  his  head. 

"  I'm  Lord  Mole,  chief  medicine-man  to  the  great  white 
Queen  of  England  ;  legs  cut  off  in  battle  by  Russian  boom- 
erangs.    If  queen  finds  you  kill  her  medicine-man,  she'll, 
send  hundreds — thousands  white  men,  with  thundcrsticks, 
and  kill  all  black  men  ;  there  !  " 

"  Yowi  !  "  exclaimed  the  native,  evidently  impressed  by 
his  threat,  which  he  immediately  communicated  to  the 
chief,  who  had  some  time  before  entered  the  tent  with  a 
coloured  lady  of  the  tribe. 

The  chief,  fully  believing  the  exalted  rank  to  vrhich  Ins 


AD  VENTURE  IN  A  US  TRALIA.  t^ 

prisoner  laid  claim,  was  resolved  to  increase  the  ransom 
he  had  intended  claiming,  but  at  the  same  time  to  take 
care  of  their  captive  and  use  him  well. 

It  did  not  follow,  however,  that  the  means  taken  to  do 
this  were  such  as  must  please  the  object  of  their  kindness. 
Mr.  Mole  soon  found  that  their  well-meant  efforts  were 
destined  to  place  him  in  rather  embarrassing  positions. 

In  the  first  place,  the  native  lady,  who  was  the  chiefs 
sister,  seemed  inclined  to  pay  him  particular,  though  un- 
welcome attentions. 

She  could  speak  English  about  as  well  as  Billygolong, 
and  by  this  means  was  enabled  to  make  her  sentiments 
known  to  the  captive,  and  also  to  overwhelm  him  with 
questions,  which  he  could  not  always  understand,  and 
generally  found  a  difficulty  in  answering. 

"Me  like  white  mans,"  she  observed,  with  a  look  of 
tenderness  that  made  Mr.  Mole  feel  nervous.  "Me 
marry  once  to  black  chief,  he  ill-treat  me ;  beat  me  with 
waddy,  till  another  black  man  speared  him  in  forest,  an(f 
he  dead." 

"A  widow,  by  Jove!"  exclaimed  Mole.  "This  is 
worse  than  all.  Good  gracious  !  the  idea  of  my  being  at 
her  mercy,"  and  he  gazed  with  awe  upon  her. 

Truth  to  tell,  the  female  aborigine  is  seldom  very 
attractive  in  appearance,  and  if  Kobba-wobba  (that  was 
her  name)  ever  were  so,  it  must  have  been  a  very,  very 
long  time  ago. 

She  was  tall,  gaunt,  and  hard-featured,  with  a  ring 
through  her  nose,  and  a  mouth  capacious  enough  to 
show  that  she  had  lost  half  her  teeth  at  least,  and  what 
remained  were  as  black  as  ebony,  while  as  her  attire 
consisted  principally  in  a  'possum-skin  cloak,  which 
had  seen  considerable  service,  she  was  not  assisted  much 
by  the  advantages  of  the  toilette. 

"Me  like  white  mans  better  than  black  mans,"  she 
repeated  emphatically  ;  "  black  mans  beat  lubras  with 
waddy,  white  treat  lubras  kind,  not  beat  them." 

"Don't  they,  though?"  returned  Mole.  "I  rather 
doubt  it ;  there's  plenty  of  wife-beating  in  some  parts  of 
England,  by  all  accounts." 

"So,"  proceeded  Kobba-wobba,  with  still  greater 
emphasis,  "me  wish  a  good  deal  to  be  lubra  of  great 
medicine  man,  of  great  Queen  of  Whiteland." 


136  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"That's  rather  cool  for  this  hot  climate,"  said  Mole  to 
himself.  "Madam,  I  grieve  to  say  that  circumstances 
render  it  impossible  that — bless  me  !  what  am  I  talking 
about  ? — the  fact  is,  Kobba-wobba,  I  couldn't  marry  you  ; 
I  have  one,  two,  three  lubras  already. " 

' '  White  lubras  ?  "  she  asked,  anxiously. 

"  Black,  nigger  black,  though  they're  not  natives  here  ; 
but  if  they  thought  I  even  dreamed  of  looking  out  for  you, 
they'd  murder  me  and  you  as  well  if  they  got  the  chance." 

Kobba-wobba  still  asserted  her  preference  for  a  white 
husband. 

Mr.  Mole  determined  to  humour  this  impressicn. 

"I  think  I  know  of  a  white  man  that  will  suit  you  ex- 
actly. He  is  very  young,  great  warrior,  wonderfully 
handsome,  with  whiskers  of  golden  colour,  great  chief  of 
the  white  queen's  army — much  money,  red  coat  covered 
with  gold. " 

"That  good,"  said  Kobba-wobba,  with  much  satisfac- 
tion, "that  very  good  ;  what  him  name?" 

"General  Walker,"  replied  Mole.  "He's  a  particular 
friend  of  mine." 

"  Waw-ker  ?    Me  remember  dat ;  where  he  stop  now  ?  " 

"Well,  he's  some  distance;  but,  if  you'll  do  all  you 
can  to  get  me  well  treated  by  the  chief  while  I'm  here, 
and  persuade  him  to  let  me  go,  I'll  find  him  out  as  soon 
as  ever  I  get  free,  and  send  him  to  you." 

The  effect  of  this  agreeable  fiction  upon  the  simple 
savage  was  very  conciliating,  and  Mole  was  glad  to  find 
he  had  made  a  friend  of  Kobba-wobba,  as  well  as  of  her 
brother,  the  chief,  who,  by  the  way,  rejoiced  in  the  high- 
sounding  epithet  of  Kul-la-ba-long-tee-boo. 

Mr.  Mole's  appetite  returning  after  a  time,  he  wished 
very  much  that  the  natives  would  bring  him  something 
palatable. 

The  desire  he  expressed  to  Billygolong,  who  re- 
sponded— 

"Iss,  gone  to  get  some  ;  see  black  chief  come,  bring- 
ing some  thing  a  good  deal  nicer  for  white  man. " 

And  Mole  saw  the  chief  again  entering  the  tent,  carry- 
ing a  tin  dish  containing  some  thing  of  strange  shape  and 
colour,  smoking  hot,  and  slightly  resembling  small 
sausages. 

"Thanks;  but  what  is  it?"  asked  Mole,  raising  him- 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


'37 


self  into  a  sitting  posture,  and  with  a  look  of  distrust 
"  Heaven  !  why,  it  looks  like " 

"  Nice  fat  young  snakes,  roasted,"  explained  Kobba- 
wobba  ;  "  chief  got  'em  from  under  his  large  gum  tree  ; 
beau'ful,  nice  as  kangaroo." 

Sure  enough,  Mr.  Mole  realised,  to  his  horror,  that  the 
contents  of  the  tin  dish  were  about  half  a  dozen  large 
sections  of  the  juvenile  serpent,  browned  over  the  fire, 
giving  forth  a  savour  not  unpleasant,  but  most  repulsive 
in  idea. 

Mr.  Mole  actually  fancied  he  saw  them  writhing  about 
as  if  they  were  alive. 

"So  nice,"  exclaimed  Kobba-wobba,  holding  them 
towards  Mole,  and  turning  them  over  with  a  knife. 

' '  Ugh  !  take  it  away, "  cried  he,  scowling  in  horror. 

The  black  looked  surprised  ;  he  was  rejecting  what  was 
considered  a  great  delicacy  by  the  Australian  natives, 
and  the  chief  had  himself  taken  considerable  trouble  to 
catch  and  kill  a  snake  for  the  purpose  of  giving  their 
guest  a  treat. 

He  could  not  understand  the  objection  to  the  delicious 
food  which  "goes  down  like  marrow"  in  the  opinion  of 
the  native  epicures,  and  could  only  suppose  that  Mr. 
Mole  was  merely  standing  on  ceremony,  and  wanted  a 
little  coaxing,  which  he  left  to  the  feminine  blandish- 
ments of  Kobba-wobba. 

"Come,  must  eat  it,  white  man,"  said  she  persua- 
sively, selecting  the  largest  piece ;  "  eat  all  up  quick, 
nicer  than  'possum,  or  quail,  or  sheep  flesh ;  black  fellow 
eat  many,  many." 

"Let  'em,"  almost  shrieked  Mole,  "but  I  can't;  I'll 
die  of  hunger  first ;  take  the  horrid  thing  away. " 

Not  only  persuasion,  but  force  was  now  employed, 
for,  by  the  direction  of  the  chief,  Billygolong  held  firmly 
the  head  of  the  unfortunate  Mole,  while  Kobba-wobba 
proceeded  to  feed  him. 

On  seeing  the  loathsome  object  so  near  him,  Mr.  Mole 
struggled,  tried  to  push  back  the  hand  that  held  it,  but 
the  chief,  seizing  his  arm,  prevented  this. 

Mole  closed  his  eyes  in  horror,  and  opened  his  mouth 
to  give  vent  to  ejaculations  of  disgust. 

This  was  the  very  worst  thing  he  could  do,  for  it  gave 
the  chieftainess  an  opportunity. 


138  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

As  soon  as  he  felt  the  hot  meat  touch  his  palate,  he 
gave  a  complete  shriek  of  horror. 

"Phew  !  "  he  spluttered  out,  "  I  won't  eat  it.  Murder  ! 
help  !  I  shall  be  choked,  poisoned  !  " 

And  with  a  violent  effort  he  succeeded  in  ridding  him- 
self of  the  nauseous  mouthful,  just  in  time  to  prevent 
it  slipping  down  his  throat. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  sick  !  "  he  cried,  "can't  eat  snake,  snake 
kill  white  man.  If  I  eat  it  I  shall  die  at  once." 

Kobba-wobba's  compassion  was  now  so  far  aroused, 
that  she  desisted  in  her  efforts,  and  gave  the  dish  of 
delicacies  back  to  the  chief,  who  received  it  with  evident 
reluctance. 

Billygolong,  who  seemed  to  be  a  recognised  "  snapper- 
up  of  unconsidered  trifles,"  pounced  upon  the  rejected 
snake  as  it  lay  upon  the  ground,  threw  back  his  head, 
and  swallowed  each  piece  at  a  gulp,  much  as  a  white 
man  would  an  oyster. 

The  chief  now  went  out  to  find  some  other  food,  that 
might  better  recommend  itself  to  the  taste  of  the  white 
fellow. 

What  could  be  more  delicious  and  acceptable  than  a 
fine  iguana,  or  eatable  lizard  ? 

They  abounded  in  that  neighbourhood,  and  could  b& 
killed  and  cooked  in  a  very  short  time. 

There  was  one  crawling  up  one  of  the  gum  trees  ;  down 
he  must  come. 

Kul-la-ba-long-tee-boo  took  aim,  and  threw  his  boom- 
erang gently  ;  it  went  about  fifty  feet  into  the  air,  whirled 
round,  and  descended,  whizzing,  close  to  the  tree,  and 
bringing  down  the  lizard  with  it. 

A  sable  warrior  ran  to  pick  it  up,  and  handed  it  to  the 
chief,  who  ended  its  dying  agonies  with  his  knife,  pre- 
pared it  for  cooking,  stuck  a  skewer  through  it,  and  then 
gave  directions  for  it  to  be  grilled  over  the  fire. 

It  was  not  long  before  this  new  delicacy  was  brought 
in  whole  to  the  hungry  tutor ;  but  hungry  as  he  was,  he 
was  not  quite  far  gone  enough  to  "tackle"  the  un- 
pleasant object  before  him. 

He  had  heard  of  the  delicacy  before,  and  saw  no 
reason  but  prejudice  why  it  should  not  be  really  good 
eating  ;  but,  when  he  saw  this  specimen  of  the  ugly  rep- 
tile, looking  for  all  the  world  line  a  young  crocodile,  his 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  iy^ 

antipathy  was  so  great  that  he  could  no  more  touch  it 
than  he  could  the  worm. 

"Pah!  away  with  it !"  he  cried.  "What  will  these 
savages  be  bringing  me  next,  I  wonder?  Broiled  nigger, 
I  expect !  "  and  then,  looking  round,  and  feeling  the 
necessity  of  conciliating  his  sable  friends,  he  said — 

"No,  no;  too  rich ;  too  good  for  white  man.  White 
man  ill,  stomach  weak,  die  if  he  eat  lizard." 

The  chief  murmured ;  he  was  beginning  to  be  tired  of 
this. 

This  second  refusal  was  too  much. 

It  was  "  the  last  straw  that  broke  the  camel's  back  "  of 
his  patience. 

For  the  last  half  hour  he  had  been  trying  to  please  a 
man,  who  seemed  determined  not  to  be  pleased. 

The  idea  of  anyone  who  would  not  eat  snake  and  who 
would  not  eat  lizard  ! 

What  would  he  eat  ? 

Didn't  he  deserve  to  be  left  to  starve  ? 
Kul-la-ba-long-tee-boo,     however,    resolved    to    give 
Mole  one  last  chance  for  his  life. 

Yes,  Mole  should  have  one  more  chance — one  more 
dainty  dish  should  be  provided  for  the  white  man,  and  if 
he  could  not  eat  that,  he  might  starve. 

It  was  now  getting  towards  night,  and  the  wild  denizens 
of  the  forest  were  beginning  to  think  of  rest. 

Flocks  of  parrots,  and  other  birds,  were  returning 
homewards,  flying  over  the  trees  close  to  the  tents. 

The  chief,  scarcely  moving  from  the  entrance  of  his 
tent,  stood  watching  a  large  body  of  these  parrots,  until 
they  were  close  over  his  head,  and  then  hurled  his  boom- 
erang into  the  midst  of  them. 

The  whole  flock  flew  off,  screaming  in  a  deafening 
manner,  but  one  parrot  came  fluttering  to  the  ground, 
struck  by  the  sharp  missile. 

A  native  boy  picked  up  the  fallen  game,  and  brought  it 
to  the  chief,  who,  by  way  of  recompense,  handed  the 
cooked  lizard  to  the  lad,  who  proceeded,  with  one  of  his 
companions,  delightedly  to  devour  it. 

The  bird  was  then  plucked,  drawn,  and  cooked,  and 
Mr.  Mole  was  at  last  gratified  by  a  smoking  dish  of 
roasted  parrot. 

He  contrived  to  enjoy  it  very  much,  and  the  natives 


I  do  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

took  such  a  great  interest  in  the  affair,  that  a  number  of 
them  crowded  around  him  all  the  time,  jabbering  and 
gesticulating  in  a  manner  almost  enough  to  frightep 
away  a  white  man's  appetite  altogether. 

But  Mr.  Mole  was  becoming  hardened  under  such  in- 
fluences. 

By  this  time  it  was  night,  and  the  moon  shone  over- 
head, but  it  was  often  clouded. 

But  the  large  fire  of  logs  gave  such  a  spreading  and 
ruddy  glow  that  all  the  gunyahs  were  more  or  less  illumi- 
nated by  its  beams. 

By  this  light  Mole  was  enabled  to  perceive  that  a  con- 
siderable amount  of  bustle  and  preparation  was  going  on 
in  the  camp,  and  the  sable  warriors  seemed  particularly 
attentive  to  their  weapons  and  their  own  personal  adorn- 
ment. 

"What  is  going  to  happen  now,  Billygolong  I"  asked 
the  prisoner  of  that  agile  attendant. 

"  Grand  corroboree,"  replied  he  ;  "black  fellows  dance 
and  fight,  and  do  big  jumps." 

"Ah  !  I've  often  thought  I  should  like  to  see  a  corro- 
boree," cried  Mole;  "I  understand  they  paint  themselves 
before  they  dance." 

"Iss,  iss,  paint  very  much,"  replied  the  savage. 

Kul-la-ba-long-tee-b'oo  just  then  entered  the  tent,  carry- 
ing a  species  of  palette,  formed  of  the  bottom  of  an  old 
tin  can,  on  which  were  a  variety  of  mysterious  pigments, 
and  a  sort  of  reed  that  served  as  a  paint-brusn. 

The  aboriginal  warrior  threw  aside  his  opossum  cloak, 
and  appeared  with  his  finely-proportioned  and  slightly- 
tattooed  form  uncovered,  save  by  a  broad  girdle  of  kan- 
garoo skin. 

In  this  condition  he  commenced  besmearing  himself 
with  some  of  the  paint  first. 

He  enlivened  the  proceeding  with  an  eccentric  dance, 
perhaps  in  order  to  make  the  paint  dry  quicker  ;  and, 
when  the  first  coat  was  set,  he  touched  it  up  with  some 
dabs  of  a  livelier  colour. 

At  this  stage,  Kobba-wobba  was  called  in  to  put  the 
finishing  touches  with  a  delicate  brush,  formed  from  the 
paw  of  the  kangaroo  rat. 

Mr.  Mole  watched  these  operations  with  considerable 
interest,  reflecting  what  an  amount  of  trouble  people, 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  !  4 1 

both  savage  and  civilised,  are  apt  to  take  in  order  to  make 
themselves  look  hideous  and  unnatural. 

But  all  his  cogitations  were  upset,  when  he  perceived 
the  object  of  his  regard  coming  towards  him,  accom- 
panied by  Kobba-wobba,  with  the  brush  and  palette  in 
her  hands. 

"Now  white  man's  turn,"  she  said;  "paint  all  over, 
and  look  much  pretty." 

"  Heaven  !  you  don't  intend  to  adorn  me  in  that  style, 
I  hope  !  "  cried  Mole. 

"  Iss,  iss!'  said  Billygolong  ;  "  chief  say  white  man 
must  put  on  paint  for  grand  corroboree." 

"But  I  can't  take  part  in  the  corroboree," protested  the 
tutor.  "  I'm  not  a  native  ;  I'm  an  outsider,  and,  besides, 
how  can  I  dance  without  any  legs?  " 

All  his  objections,  however,  did  not  move  his  captor. 

He  ordered  Billygolong  to  hold  him,  whilst  he  himself 
stood  ready  to  assist  with  his  mighty  strength  in  bringing 
the  prisoner  to  reason. 

But  Kobba-wobba,  as  soon  as  Mole  was  seated,  stripped 
to  the  waist  and  securely  held  in  the  clutches  of  Billygo- 
long, behaved  in  a  manner  that  surprised  her  native 
friends. 

She  thurst  her  painting  materials  into  the  hands  of  the 
chief,  and  fell  on  her  knees  at  the  feet  of  Mr.  Mole — or 
rather  where  the  feet  of  Mr.  Mole  should  have  been,  for  it 
was  the  strange  absence  of  those  extremities  that  excited 
the  admiration  of  Kobba-wobba. 

She  lifted  both  wooden  legs  with  such  haste  that  poor 
Mole  was  nearly  thrown  backwards,  and  in  great  alarm 
shrieked  out — 

"What  are  you  doing,  woman?     Don't  kill  me." 

"No  kill,  much  lub.  How  you  get  wood  feet?  You 
much  bery  big  chief;  much  dance  wid  strong  leg — not 
get  tired." 

"I  am  tired  of  this  kind  of  life,"  groaned  Mole,  in 
bitterness  of  spirit,  for  while  Kobba-wobba  was  admiring 
his  legs,  the  chief  had  commenced  putting  a  fresh  coat  of 
paint  on  the  white  man's  chest. 

"You  lub  Kobba-wobba?"  asked  the  woman,  with  a 
sigh. 

"  No  ! " 

"You  try— hab  Kobba-wobba  for  lubra— what  you  call 


142  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOWS 

wife ;  den  we  hab  piccaninnies  wid  stick  legs  all  same  as 
great  white  chief." 

"I  won't! — I  forbid  the  bans!  I've  been  married  a 
great  deal  too  much  in  my  lifetime,  and  I  call  you  all  to 
witness  I'll  never  marry  that  woman." 

"I  paint  you  much  beau'ful — den  you  lub  me." 

"Never! — and  I  won't  be  painted,"  cried  Mr.  Mole, 

However,  it  was  decided  that  Mr.  Mole  must  be  painted 
at  all  risks. 

Objections  were  useless,  only  serving  to  irritate  his 
captors,  and  render  them  more  violent. 

The  chief  went  all  over  Mole's  chest,  arms,  and  back 
with  his  large  brush,  which  he  dipped  in  the  glutinous 
kind  of  black  paint. 

He  was  obliged  to  submit  to  being  daubed  over  with 
this  material  till  his  whole  complexion  seemed  changed. 

Actors  have  assured  us  that  nothing  is  more  unpleasant 
than  painting  and  glueing  their  faces  preparatory  for 
pantomime  or  burlesque  make-up  ;  what  must  Mr.  Mole, 
then,  have  felt  when  not  only  his  face,  but  his  body 
and  arms,  were  thus  encrusted  with  an  offensive  pig- 
ment? 

He  narrowly  escaped  getting  some  in  his  eyes,  and 
when  the  operation  was  completed,  and  he  was  held  up 
to  dry,  he  experienced  a  sensation  of  mental  and  bodily 
anguish  which  outdid  all  his  previous  experiences. 

The  coat  of  paint  did  not  take  long  to  get  dry,  and  then 
it  felt  as  stiff  and  uncomfortable  as  a  suit  of  armour,  and 
Mole  the  warrior  could  hardly  move. 

But  his  tortures  had  not  ended  yet  ;  as  soon  as  it  was 
ascertained  that  the  coating  had  set,  that  female  artist, 
Kobba-wobba,  stepped  forward  and  commenced  adorning 
Mr.  Mole's  unfortunate  carcase  and  countenance  with  a 
choice  pattern  of  her  own  invention,  in  no  less  than  four 
bright  colours. 

Isaac  submitted  to  this  operation  with  all  the  fortitude 
at  his  command,  though  his  modesty  was  shocked. 

Kobba-wobba,  on  the  contrary,  seemed  delighted  with 
the  task,  and  gave  her  client  such  a  variety  of  elaborate 
embellishments,  that  he  declared,  when  it  was  done,  he 
felt  and  looked  exactly  like  a  newly-hung  wall-paper. 

All  the  time  the  sable  lady  was  going  into  exclamations 
of  delight  at  the  beauty  of  her  own  work,  and  when  corn- 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  I43 

pleted,  she  was  in  such  an  ecstasy  of  delight  and  pride 
that  she  finally  threw  down  her  implements  and  danced 
with  joy,  exclaiming — 

' '  Cobbon  cobbon  !    Good,  good  !  " 

"I  wish  you  felt  like  I  do,  old  girl,"  said  Mole,  "and 
you'd  be  more  likely  to  say  bad,  very  bad.  Well,  if  this 
isn't  a  world  of  suffering  !  Ah,  what  is  coming  now  ? " 

The  chief  entered,  with  an  enormous  head-dress,  in  the 
form  of  a  wig,  evidently  manufactured  from  the  frizzly 
heads  of  some  slain  enemies,  crested  with  a  plume  of 
parrot's  feathers. 

This  they  fixed  on  Mr.  Mole's  head,  by  tying  it  under 
his  chin. 

An  opossum  cloak  was  thrown  over  him,  and  he  was 
lifted  on  an  old  wooden  chair,  probably  stolen  from  some 
settler's  hut. 

In  this  guise  the  tutor,  now  to  all  appearance  a  super- 
annuated native,  was  carried  out  of  doors  and  set  down 
under  the  gum  trees  with  the  other  spectators  who  had 
assembled  to  witness  the  corroboree,  Billygolong  still  by 
his  side  to  guard  him. 

The  tribe  began  with  a  series  of  shrill  yells,  accom- 
pained  by  violent  gesticulations,  beating  of  drums,  the 
clatter  of  sticks  together,  and  the  whizzing  in  the  air  of 
pieces  of  wood  fastened  to  a  string. 

This  was  the  overture,  and  a  very  hideous  and  dis- 
cordant one  it  was. 

After  that,  the  first  party  of  performers  rushed  in  with  a 
wild  war-whoop,  and  commenced  dancing  round  the  fire. 

Never  had  the  venerable  Isaac  Mole,  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  experience,  seen  such  dancing  or  such 
dancers. 

With  clubs  in  one  hand,  and  boomerangs  in  the  other, 
the  sable  warriors  capered  round  and  round  and  to  and 
fro,  sometimes  like  street  niggers  in  a  breakdown,  some- 
times as  wildly  as  the  dancing  dervishes  of  Persia,  and 
sometimes,  oftener  than  all,  like  lunatics,  or  the  witches 
in  "Macbeth." 

Then  the  savages,  after  a  short  interval,  began  again, 
increased  in  numbers  by  another  party,  whom  they  soon 
engaged  in  a  spirited  sham-fight. 

With  a  yell  of  defiance  and  a  loud  clatter  of  weapons, 
the  two  parties  rushed  together  in  close  action. 


"44  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

From  the  fierceness  of  their  manner  and  speech,  Mr. 
Mole  supposed  that  they  really  had  quarrelled,  and  in- 
tened  to  have  it  out  to  the  death. 

At  length  one  party  of  combatants  had  to  give  way  ; 
they  were  driven  from  the  field,  and  their  opponents  pur- 
sued them  with  yells  of  triumph. 

Both  soon  disappeared  in  the  darkness  of  the  forest, 
but  sounds  of  shrieks  and  groans,  blows  and  clashing  of 
weapons  convinced  Mr.  Mole  that  a  fearful  massacre  was 
going  on  out  of  sight. 

"Good  gracious  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  is  that  the  way  you 
black  fellows  have  a  friendly  dance,  by  pitching  into  each 
other  in  this  murderous  style  ?  " 

"  Fowi,  iss,  iss,"  answered  Billygolong,  with  a  wide 
grin,  "  always  so  at  a  corroboree  ;  but  don't  kill-kill ;  only 
make  believe." 

"It's  too  much  like  reality,  though,  for  my  taste," 
mused  Mole,  "  and  I  shouldn't  much  care  about  being  in 
the  thick  of  the  battle.  Hallo,  here  they  are  again,  and 
they  don't  seem  much  damaged  either.  I  wish  I  could 
run  away." 

"Great  kangaroo  dance  come  nex',"  observed  Billygo- 
long, who  was  as  good  as  a  programme. 

The  whole  body  of  the  warriors  now  reappeared,  hav- 
ing apparently  made  up  their  quarrel  without  bloodshed, 
and  commenced  some  fresh  gambols. 

The  men  threw  aside  their  weapons,  drew  up  their  arms 
into  the  smallest  compass,  and  commenced  hopping  like 
kangaroos. 

The  imitation  was  wonderfully  lifelike,  and  the  immense 
leaps  taken  by  each  didn't  fall  far  short  of  those  performed 
by  the  genuine  animal. 

Mr.  Mole  was  reminded  of  his  recent  hunting  achieve- 
ments. 

These  personators  of  the  kangaroo,  to  render  the  thing 
more  natural,  had  tufts  of  grass  in  their  mouths,  on  which 
they  pretended  to  be  quietly  feeding  when  they  were  dis- 
turbed by  the  other  warriors,  armed,  and  hopped  away 
in  a  manner  wonderfully  true  to  nature. 

Hitherto,  not  more  than  half  of  the  force  of  the  tribe 
had  engaged  in  the  revels,  the  remainder  being  seated 
among  the  spectators  under  the  trees,  wrapped  in  their 
opossum  cloaks. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


'45 


Suddenly,  at  a  thundering  signal  on  the  drum,  these 
started  up,  threw  aside  their  cloaks,  and  with  a  wild 
"  Whroo  !  Whroo  !  "  began  a  demoniac  witches'  dance 
round  the  fire. 

Mr.  Mole  gave  an  exclamation  of  astonishment  at  their 
ghastly  appearance,  for  they  had  painted  ribs  and  bones, 
in  white,  upon  their  bodies  and  limbs,  which,  by  the  dark- 
ness of  the  background,  gave  them  just  the  aspect  of  a  lot 
of  animated  skeletons. 

"Dead  man's  dance,"  exclaimed  Billygolong.  "  Dat 
am  splendid." 

"Bless  my  soul;  what  an  idea,"  exclaimed  Mole. 
"Puts  me  in  mind  of  Holbein's  Dance  of  Death,  in  which 
I  remember " 

But  at  this  moment  he  felt  himself  seized  behind,  and, 
ere  he  could  object,  he  and  his  chair  were  lifted  aloft  on 
the  shoulders  of  four  stalwart  aborigines. 

"  Here,  I  say,"  cried  Mole,  "you'll  break  my  neck  ;  do 
please  be  careful." 

The  savages  then  carried  him  toward  the  fire. 

Not  doubting  that  they  intended  to  offer  him  up  as  a 
burnt  sacrifice,  Mole  objected  strongly  by  a  series  of 
passionate  protestations. 

"My  good-looking  friend,  what  are  you  about,  pray? 
Understand  I  object  to  being  burnt  ;  let  me  down  ;  I'm  a 
freeborn  Englisman  ;  let  me  down,  I  say." 

His  words  were  drowned  in  the  yells  and  shouts  of  bar- 
barous triumph  that  rang  from  all  sides  ;  his  struggle  was 
in  vain,  and  as  he  was  carried  more  than  five  feet  from  the 
ground — a  distance,  to  fall,  which  would  seriously  dam- 
age a  wooden-legged  man — Isaac  felt  that  the  best  thing 
he  could  do  was  to  hold  on  to  his  seat. 

The  natives  underneath  commenced  a  wild  dance, 
which  had  the  effect  of  making  Mr.  Mole  feel  as  if  he  were 
mounted  on  a  kangaroo  or  giraffe,  or  out  at  sea  in  a 
washing-tub  during  a  storm. 

How  he  managed  to  keep  his  seat  was  a  mystery. 

The  music  struck  up  louder  than  ever. 

Every  sitting  warrior  rose,  like  a  giant  refreshed,  and 
commenced  fresh  gambols ;  the  old  chief,  with  the  bound 
of  a  kangaroo,  suddenly  leaped  into  the  circle  of  the 
dancers  brandishing  his  powerful  waddy,  and  shouting— 
«  Yal-lul-lu-bah ! " 


1 46  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

Mr.  Mole  was  carried  round  and  round  the  huge  camp, 
fire  till  he  felt  quite  giddy,  and  expected  every  moment 
that  they  intended  to  tilt  him  into  it  and  burn  him  like  an 
Australian  Guy  Fawkes. 

It  was,  at  least,  evident  that  this  part  of  the  performance 
was  meant  for  his  especial  behoof,  for  the  wild  songs  and 
yells  were  directed  towards  himself. 

For  a  considerable  time  his  bearers  stood  still,  holding 
him  as  high  up  as  they  could,  whilst  all  the  others  danced 
round. 

No  one,  ever  acquainted  with  our  old  friend  Isaac, 
could  possibly  have  recognised  him  as  he  looked  on  that 
memorable  occasion. 

Black  all  over  the  face  and  body,  with  crescents,  stars, 
and  stripes  in  white  and  red  ochre  and  an  enormous 
woolly  wig  crested  with  feathers,  and  an  opossum  cloak 
concealing  his  lower  extremities,  he  sat,  the  centre  of 
attraction  to  a  group  of  yelling  and  dancing  savages,  in 
the  red  glare  of  the  forest  fire. 

Isaac  Mole  indeed  ?  Why,  he  looked  far  more  like  the 
great  Panjandrum  himself,  with  all  his  worshippers  around 
him. 

"I  do  believe  they  take  me  for  some  white  divinity," 
he  thought,  "  and  are  chanting  hymns  of  praise  to  their 
idol.  Misguided  beings  !  " 

His  bearers  now  set  into  motion  again,  and  recom- 
menced a  rapid  walk  round  the  fire. 

It  grew  into  a  run,  and  then  to  a  gallop. 

Every  moment  Mr.  Mole  expected  to  be  pitched  out  of 
his  seat,  while  the  deafening  discord  in  his  ears,  the  wild 
scene  before  him,  fright  and  the  rapidity  of  the  jolting 
motion,  almost  drove  him  distracted. 

At  length  he  felt  he  could  endure  it  no  longer. 

The  chair  jolted  till  it  was  impossible  to  retain  his  hold, 
p.nd  with  a  cry  of  horror  out  he  fell  on  to  the  ground,  close 
to  the  fire. 

In  a  moment  he  felt  his  woolly  wig  in  a  blaze. 

Poor  Mole  gave  himself  up  for  lost. 

But  a  black  fellow  promptly  extinguished  the  flame  of 
the  burning  head-dress,  and  then  he  was  once  more  seated 
under  the  gum-tree. 

That  was  Mr.  Mole's  last  ordeal  that  night  for  the  sav- 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRAL2A.  x  4? 

ages  were  tired  out  with  their  exertions,  and  throwing 
themselves  round  the  fire,  soon  fell  asleep. 

Mr.  Mole  quickly  followed  their  example. 

How   long   he   had  slept,   he   knew  not,  but  he  was 

awakened  by  a  hand  being  placed  firmly  over  his  mouth. 

'  Hush  !  not  a  word,  if  you  value  your  life,"  whispered 

the  owner  of  the  hand.      "  It's  Harry,  who  has  come  back 

with  Jack  and  the  stockman  to  save  you." 

Then  a  moment  afterwards  came  the  words — 

"Rise  up  and  walk  between  us  as  quietly  as  a  cat  on 
velvet." 

Mole  obeyed,  and,  luckily,  was  too  bewildered  to  speak 
or  make  any  outcry. 

He  rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked. 

Yes,  there  sure  enough  were  the  two  boys ;  and  two 
paces  off  the  stockman,  with  a  brace  of  loaded  revolvers 
in  his  hands. 

Quietly  as  possible  they  walked  till  they  were  quite  a 
hundred  yards  from  the  camp. 

There  they  found  half-a-dozen  other  well-armed  men, 
who  had  been  collected  by  Jack's  friends  to  rescue  the 
white  prisoner. 

They  had  even  prepared  a  horse  for  Mr.  Mole,  with 
another  pair  of  boots  for  his  unlucky  wooden  legs  to  be 
inserted  in.  Mount  and  away  was  the  word. 

But  unluckily,  before  Mr.  Mole  could  be  properly  fixed 
in  the  saddle,  one  of  the  horses  gave  a  loud  neigh. 

The  natives  heard  it,  and  with  loud  yells  started  in  pursuit. 

"  Make  haste,  sir.     Up  with  you." 

The  savages  were  in  sight  now,  for  the  moon  had  risen 
and  as  soon  as  they  saw  the  white  party,  they  commenced 
to  throw  boomerangs  and  spears. 

But  a  few  shots  checked  their  advance,  and  Mole  hav- 
ing been  "  fixed,"  away  went  the  whites,  soon  leaving 
the  savages  behind. 

After  a  ride  of  three  hours  they  reached  a  station  where, 
after  a  hearty  laugh  at  Mole's  paint,  he  was  cleansed  and 
supplied  with  garments.  They  rested  till  daylight,  and 
then,  after  a  hearty  breakfast,  started  for  the  Harkaway 
settlement. 

The  relation  of  their  adventures  caused  some  excitement 
there,  and  the  description  of  Mole  in  his  war-paint  was  a 
theme  of  mirth  for  many  a  day. 


1 48  JA  CK  HARK  A  IVA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

CHAPTER  XXL 

ROOK'S  TROUBLES MORGAN  AGAIN — A  DESPERATE  PLAN — TINKER 

VANISHES      LEAVING     ROOK      IN     TROUBLE HOW     HILDA     WAS 

CARRIED  OFF. 

WE  will  now  look  after  old  friend  Jack  and  his  party 
in  their  new  camp. 

All  went  well,  and  everybody  looked  happy,  and  hope- 
fully regarded  the  future. 

Everybody  but  one  man. 

Rook! 

He  had  weighty  matters  upon  his  conscience. 

Harkaway  had  given  him  a  splendid  chance  of  begin- 
ning life  again  and  redeeming  the  past. 

How  had  he  profited  by  it  ? 

In  a  way  that  made  him  feel  ready  to  put  the  muzzle 
of  his  rifle  into  his  mouth  and  blow  his  brains  out. 

He  had  acted  as  a  fool  as  well  as  a  traitor. 

"  When  I  think  that  I  was  idiot  enough  to  listen  to 
Morgan,"  he  muttered,  as  he  walked  along  by  the  river's 
bank,  "when  I  reflect  on  the  shallow  trap  into  which  I 
fell,  I  could  put  an  end  to  myself." 

"  Yah,  yah  !  " 

A  low,  nigger  chuckle  came  from  the  shrubs  skirting 
the  river,  and  out  popped  Tinker. 

"Morning,  Massa  Rook,"  said  Tinker,  nodding  gaily. 

"  Rather  late  for  morning,  Tinker,"  returned  Rook, 
giving  him  a  sharp,  scrutinising  glance. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Tinker,  looking  down  thoughtfully. 

And  then  suddenly  looking  up,  he  faced  Rook,  and 
said — 

"  Nice  man  Captain  Morgan." 

Rook  started. 

"  Morgan  !     How  should  I  know  ? " 

Tinker  chuckled. 

"  You  know  bery  well,  I  know  bery  well." 

"What!"  said  Rook,  to  himself,  "is  it  possible  that 
this  nigger  is  one  of  Morgan's  spies  in  the  camp,  all  this 
while  ?•— oh,  impossible." 

"  Massa  Morgan  coming  presently ;  he  come  to 
frighten  old  Mole — yah,  yah  !  " 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTXAUA.  ,  4g 

"  I  don't  know  Morgan,  nor  any  thing  about  him," 
returned  Rook,  coldly,  "and  I  don't  want  to  know  him." 

"  Oh,  yes,  sar,  you  do  ;  you  know  all  about  him,  you 
know  well ;  him  robber,  bushranger." 

And  he  nodded  with  such  significance,  that  Rook  began 
to  feel  uncomfortable. 

He  reflected  awhile. 

A  hundred  thoughts  chased  each  other  through  his  mind 
at  once. 

"  I'll  go  to  Mr.  Harkaway  and  tell  him  every  thing,"  he 
said;  "  he'll  forgive  me  again,  I  know  well.  He'll  help 
me  to  keep  straight,  he'll " 

"Oh,  golly!"  cried  Tinker,  suddenly,  and  disap- 
peared. 

Two  men  had  crept  from  behind  the  trees  before  Rook 
could  perceive  them,  and  stood  before  him. 

Their  appearance  was  so  sudden  that  he  was  consider- 
ably startled. 

Yet  not  more  so  than  when  he  recognised  their  voices. 

"  Rook,"  said  the  nearest  to  him. 

"  Captain  Morgan." 

"Quite  an  unexpected  meeting,  is  it  not?"  said  the 
notorious  bushranger,  with  a  quiet  smile.  "  We  have 
lost  sight  of  you  of  late.  What  is  the  best  news  ? " 

Rook  hung  his  head,  but  made  no  answer  to  this. 

"  Do  you  hear?" 

"  Yes,  I  hear/'  returned  the  ex-convict,  coldly  ;  "  but 
I  have  no  news  to  give  you." 

"Indeed,"  said  Morgan,  gaily;  "what  a  precious 
slow  place  this  must  be  for  one  of  your  sort." 

Rook  beat  the  ground  impatiently  with  his  foot  for 
several  minutes,  while  he  summoned  up  courage. 

At  length  he  burst  out — 

"  You  must  not  look  to  me  for  assistance  any  more," 
he  said,  violently.  "These  people  have  shown  me  all 
sorts  of  kindness  and  I  will  not  betray  them. " 

Morgan  frowned. 

"  Hold  your  mutinous  tongue,  Rook  !"  he  said,  in  a 
voice  which  made  the  ex-convict  feel  very  uncomfortable. 
"  If  I  see  any  signs  of  disaffection  amongst  my  people, 
I  have  a  swift  and  sure  means  at  command  for  putting 
an  end  to  it." 

Rook  glanced  round. 


150  /A  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON  '.S 

Morgan  had  got  a  revolver  pointed  at  him. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  he  said,  faintly  ;  "  1 
owe  you  no  allegiance. " 

The  bushranger  gave  a  hoarse  laugh. 

"No  allegiance!  "  he  cried;  "  why,  what  do  you 
mean,  confound  you  !  Why,  I  must  be  growing  patient 
in  my  old  age.  I've  put  a  bullet  into  many  a  man  before 
now  for  less  than  that." 

Rook  made  no  reply. 

The  captain  of  the  bushrangers  had  a  trick  of  manner 
about  him  which  cowed  the  ex-convict. 

And  Morgan  knew  it. 

He  knew  well  that  he  held  the  power  over  him  which 
a  strong  mind  always  exercises  over  a  weak. 

"  Look  you  here,  Master  Rook,"  said  he,  after  awhile, 
"  you  are  a  simpleton,  and  you're  young  in  my  serv- 
ice, so  I  overlook  what  you  have  said.  But  I  have  this 
to  tell  you,  and  you  will  please  look  upon  my  words  as 
orders,  not  to  be  lightly  played  with." 

A  retort  rose  to  the  ex-convict's  lips,  but  he  repressed  it 

"  I  haven't  depended  upon  your  assistance  alone  here  ; 
I  have  others  in  the  settlement  upon  whom  I  rely  for 
information." 

"  Spies?" 

"Eh!" 

"  Others,"  said  Rook,  with  a  start ;   "  who  can  it  be  ?  " 

"  That  is  my  business  ;  I  have  my  spies,  as  you  are 
rude  enough  to  call  them.  Well,  it  pleases  me  to  fancy 
the  good  looks  of  Mrs.  Harvey." 

"Who?" 

"  The  beautiful  Hilda.  Well,  within  a  few  minutes, 
she  will  be  in  my  power.  Don't  look  alarmed.  You 
will  have  to  render  some  assistance. " 

"  I !  " 

"  You." 

"  Not  I ;  I  swear " 

"  Silence  !  make  no  remark,  but  listen.  She  has  now 
set  out  with  her  daughter,  and  is  walking  by  the  riverside. 
All  you  have  to  do  in  the  matter,  is  to  go  to  the  girl — 
Emily  I  believe  she  is  called — and  say  that  her  father  has 
sent,  for  her ;  make  some  excuse,  and  that  I  leave  to  your 
fertile  invention,  for  getting  her  away  from  the  others — 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  j  5  , 

from  her  mother.     I  will  see  to  the  rest  with  my  men, 
who  are  waiting  even  now  with  the  boat." 

Rook  shook  from  head  to  foot  on  hearing  this. 

But  he  was  silent. 

"Now  go,"  said  Morgan,  sternly  ;  "  that  way — quick, 
and  remember  what  you  have  to  do." 

Rook  stared  upon  the  ground,,  but  said  never  a  word. 

He  paused  irresolutely,  for  awhile,  and  then,  without 
raising  his  eyes,  he  walked  off  sharply  in  the  direction 
indicated  by  Morgan. 

"  What  shall  I  do  first? "  he  said,  to  himself;  "  go  to 
Mr.  Harkaway  or  to  Mr.  Harvey,  or  shall  I  first  warn 
them  ?  While  I  am  gone  to  Mr.  Harkaway,  the  mischief 
may  be  done  ;  no,  I  had  far  better  seek  them  and " 

As  he  thus  soliloquised,  he  came  suddenly  in  sight  of 
two  ladies,  strolling  along  the  waterside. 

A  thrill  of  terror  shot  through  him  as  he  recognised 
the  people  of  whom  Captain  Morgan  had  spoken. 

Mrs.  Harvey  and  her  daughter,  little  Emily. 

He  did  not  wait  an  instant,  but  flew  to  them,  and  bade 
them  get  back  to  the  camp  with  all  haste. 

His  manner  appeared  wild,  and  his  voice  incoherent ; 
and  at  first  they  could  scarce  make  out  what  he  meant. 

"Be  off,"  he  exclaimed,  in  an  excited  undertone. 
"Run — fly  for  your  lives.  A  moment  more  and  it  will 
be  too  late." 

"The  poor  man  is  mad,"  said  Mrs.  Harvey  to  herself. 

Rook  saw,  by  her  half  timid  look  and  shrinking  manner, 
what  was  passing  in  her  mind. 

"I  am  as  sane  as  you  are,"  he  cried;  "fly  for  your 
lives,  I  say.  Morgan  the  bushranger  and  his  men  are 
hovering  about." 

"  Morgan  !  "  ejaculated  Hilda,  in  terror. 

"Yes." 

"Come,  then,  Emily— quick,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Harvey; 
' '  fly  back  to  the  house  as  fast  as  your  legs  will  carry  you. " 

Emily  ran  off  like  the  wind. 

But  her  mother,  who  was  less  nimble,  had  not  got  three 
yards  before  Morgan  and  his  men  pounced  upon  her. 

"  Not  so  fast,  my  pretty  one." 

"  Help  !  help  •  "  she  shrieked. 

"Come,  come,  my  lovely  one,"  said  Morgan,  "  don  t 
fear  me.  I  mean  no  harm. " 


1 5  2  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"  Help  !  help  !  " 

Morgan  now  began  to  fear  that  her  cries  would  be 
heard. 

So  he  lifted  the  struggling  Hilda  in  his  arms,  and  hur- 
ried her  away,  in  spite  of  all  her  wild  efforts  to  disen- 
gage herself. 

Meanwhile  Rook  had  made  desperate  attempts  to  raise 
the  alarm  in  the  camp. 

He  ran  on  a  little  way,  and  blew  loudly  upon  an  alarm- 
whistle. 

Still  no  one  appeared  to  respond. 

Hilda's  shrieks  for  help  were  now  piteous. 

So  the  ex-convict,  Rook,  casting  off  all  considerations 
for  himself,  rushed  to  intercept  the  bushrangers. 

Morgan  was  making  good  progress  with  his  strug- 
gling victim,  while  his  men  were  following  close  behind, 
to  oppose  anybody. 

Rook  d  ished  after  them. 

"Stop,  villain  !" 

Then  he  seized  Morgan  by  the  collar  and  swung  him 
round,  and  Hilda  was  free. 

But,  before  she  had  got  three  steps,  Morgan  clutched 
her  again. 

At  that  same  moment  he  whipped  out  a  pistol,  and  pre- 
sented it  at  Rook. 

"Traitor  !  "  he  cried,  "take  your  death." 

Click  !  a  flash  in  the  pan. 

"Confusion  !  "  angrily  cried  the  bushranger  chief. 

"Help!  help!"  exclaimed  Rook,  wildly;  for  he  now 
«aw  the  hopelessness  of  attemping  to  cope  with  such 
odds. 

Still  he  thought  to  detain  them  until  assistance  should 
come  to  him. 

"  Help  !  help  !  Harkaway,  to  the  rescue  !  " 

He  rushed  again  at  Morgan,  but  the  latter  met  him 
with  a  blow  from  the  butt  end  of  his  pistol,  so  well  di- 
rected that  it  stretched  Rook  upon  the  ground. 

At  this  instant  shots  were  heard  in  rapid  succession,  at 
no  great  distance  from  the  spot. 

Rook  heard  them  ere  his  senses  forsook  him — before  he 
received  that  terrible  blow — and  he  despaired. 

He  guessed  that  an  attack,  real  or  feigned,  had  been 
made  upon  the  other  end  of  the  settlement,  in  order  to 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRAL1A .  ,  5, 

distract  the  attention  from  the  scene  of  this  present  out- 
rage. 

And  with  this  dreadful,  despairing  thought  upon  his 
mind,  all  became  a  blank. 

He  fainted  from  the  pain  of  his  wound. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

HOLE  MEETS  HIGHWAYMEN  AND  IS  ROBBED — THE  BAGS  OF  GOLD 
— WHAT  FOLLOWED — THE  USES  OF  GUNPOWDER  TEA — TIT  FOR 
TAT. 

PERHAPS  an  explanation  of  the  shots  which  the  unfort- 
unate convict  heard  would  interest  the  reader. 

For  this,  we  must  turn  to  our  old  friend,  Isaac  Mole. 

Mr.  Mole,  whose  old  weakness  had  completely  got  the 
better  of  him  of  late,  had  only  just  taken  the  pledge,  pre- 
vious to  going  on  a  journey  to  a  neighbouring  settle- 
ment. 

The  object  of  this  journey  was  to  make  a  heavy  pur- 
chase of  specie  for  private  speculation. 

He  had  been  greatly  struck  by  the  tales  he  had  heard  of 
the  marvellous  finds  of  speculative  diggers ;  and  armed 
with  a  well-lined  purse  he  went  off,  mounted  upon  a 
stout  cob,  for  he  was  becoming  quite  a  skilful  horse- 
man. 

He  succeeded  wonderfully — beyond  his  hopes. 

Returning,  he  was  so  filled  with  satisfaction  at  his 
trading,  that  he  was  induced,  in  spite  of  his  pledge-tak- 
ing not  being  two  days  old,  to  accept  a  glass  of  grog 
from  one  of  the  diggers  with  whom  he  had  traded. 

Facilis  descensus  Averni. 

One  drop  led  to  another. 

The  result  may  be  seen  easily  enough  by  the  intelli- 
gent reader. 

Poor  Mole  got 

Hush! 

He  jogged  along  upon  his  cob,  his  gold  jingling  in  his 
pockets,  as  oblivious  of  any  thing  wrong  as  you  could 
wish,  and  singing  blithely  to  himself,  when  suddenly, 


j 54  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

from  behind  a  clump  of  trees,  two  men  started  out  and 
confronted  him. 

"Hullo!" 

"  Hullo ! " 

The  exclamation  was  mutual. 

"Whither  so  fast,  Mr.  Mole?"  said  one  of  the  new- 
comers. 

"Mr.  Molel"  quoth  the  worthy  Isaac;  "then  you 
know  me?" 

"Of  course." 

"  Dear  me  1 "  said  Mr.  Mole,  in  a  tipsy  voice ;  "  won- 
derful." 

"Who  doesn't  know  the  great  Mr.  Mole?"  ejaculated 
one  of  the  strangers. 

"Will  you  get  down  and  take  some  thing  to  drink  with 
us,  Mr.  Mole? "  said  the  other  man,  politely. 

Mr.  Mole  could  not  resist  such  an  invitation. 

Down  he  dropped  onto  his  wooden  legs  without  another 
word. 

The  man  who  had  invited  him  poured  out  some  spirits 
from  a  pocket-pistol  into  a  horn  cup,  and  handed  it  to 
Mr.  Mole. 

"  Your  goodsh — I  mean  good  healsh — health,"  stuttered 
the  old  gentleman. 

"And  yours,"  said  the  others,  feigning  to  drink. 
.  When  Mr.  Mole  had  drained  his  cup,  according  to  cus- 
tom, for  he  always  drank  a  cup,  one  of  the  men,  without 
another  word  of  warning,  popped  out  a  pistol,  and  made 
this  unceremonious  request — 

"Just  let  us  have  a  look  at  your  nuggets,  if  you  please, 
Mr.  Mole." 

Mr.  Mole  said  nothing. 

The  perspiration  trickled  down  Mole's  back,  but  he 
simply  took  out  his  bag,  and  dropped  it  into  the  other's 
hand. 

"That's  not  all  you  have  got,"  said  the  man,  sharply, 
placing  his  pistol  close  to  Mole's  head. 

"What,  more?" 

"One  more.     Hand  it  over." 

"Here  it  is,"  said  Mole,  with  a  sigh;  looking  rather 
timidly  at  the  pistol  the  man  still  held. 

After  all,  he  thought  he   had   better  get  home   with    a 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


'55 


whole  skin,  and  minus  his  bags  of  gold,  than  with  his 
riches,  and  riddled  with  bullets. 

So  reasoned  Mole. 

And  he  was  right. 

"  A  nice  little  haul,"  said  the  man  who  had  taken  two 
bags. 

"Very,"  said  the  other. 

"What!"  exclaimed  Mole,  wildly;  "what,  do  you 
mean  to  take  all  from  me  ?  " 

The  two  men  burst  out  laughing  at  this. 

"You  get  home  now,  Mr.  Mole,"  said  one,  "as  fast 
as  you  can,  or  you  may  find  a  bullet  in  some  part  of  your 
body. " 

"Yes,  get  home,  and  thank  your  lucky  stars  that  we 
don't  want  the  cob  as  well,"  said  the  other. 

"Give  me  my  bags,"  cried  poor  Mole. 

"Bah  !  "  said  one  of  the  gentlemen,  "  get  along  home.'' 

"  You're  not  going  to  rob  me  thus." 

"No,  no — we  have  done  it — we  are  not  going  to  do  it. " 

"  Goodness  me  1  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Mole,  "  what  will  my 
wife  say  ?  " 

"  Probably  say  you  are  an  old  coward,"  said  one  of 
these  amiable  robbers. 

"  Or  perhaps  she'll  only  unscrew  one  of  your  wooden 
legs  and  whack  you  with  it,"  suggested  the  other. 

"Oh!"  cried  Mole. 

"Good-night." 

And  they  started  off. 

"Stop,  stop  ! "  cried  Mole,    " don't  go." 

They  pulled  up  short. 

"  Have  you  got  any  more?" 

"No,  no  ;  but  do  come  back." 

"  What  on  earth  are  you  bothering  about?  " 

"Just  have  a  little  pity,"  implored  Mole ;  " think  what 
I  shall  have  to  suffer  when  I  get  back." 

They  laughed  at  this. 

"Why,  you  discontented  old  fool,"  said  one  of  these 
amiable  gentlemen,  "just  compare  yourself  with  that  old 
man  we  stripped  of  his  purse,  or  money-bag,  for  it  was  a 
money-bag " 

"And  well  filled,"  suggested  his  companion. 

"Capitally — what  would  he  say  to  find  we  had^let  you 
off  so  easily— eh?  That's  what  I  want  to  know." 


156  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"Can't  say,  I'm  sure,"  replied  Mole,  "only  I  know 
that  you'll  make  it  precious  warm  work  for  my  wife  with 
me." 

"Ha,  ha!" 

"  Don't  laugh, "  said  Mole  imploringly,  "don't  laugh. 
Do  you  really  mean  to  take  my  money-bags  ?  " 

"Of  course  we  do." 

"Well,  then,  in  common  gratitude,  help  me  out  of  this 
trouble. " 

"  How  ?  "  demanded  one  of  the  robbers,  much  amused 
at  the  suggestion. 

"  Put  a  bullet  through  my  coat-tails,"  said  poor  Mole. 

"Oh,  if  that's  all,  willingly,"  was  the  reply. 

Mole  held  out  the  tail  of  his  coat,  and  the  robber  blazed 
away. 

Bang  !  went  a  bullet  through  it. 

"Now  another,  if  you  please,"  said  Mole. 

He  held  out  the  other  side,  and  the  other  knight  of  the 
road  let  fly  at  it. 

"Thank  you.     Now  another." 

This  was  granted  by  the  robber. 

"Now  another,  if  you  please,  this  side  of  my  coat 
tail." 

A  fourth  report,  and  a  fourth  hole  in  his  coat  was  the 
result. 

"One  more,  if  you  will  kindly  oblige  me." 

"I  haven't  got  any  more,"  said  one  of  these  amiable 
robbers,  examining  his  powder-flask. 

"  But  you  have,"  said  Mole  to  the  second  robber. 

"No,  not  a  shot." 

He  looked  at  his  ammunition  before  he  replied. 

"  Are  you  sure,  sir?  "  asked  Mole. 

"Sure  ?     Yes,"  said  the  man,  laughing  at  Mole. 

"And  you  ?" 

"No  ;  I  said  so  already." 

"  Very  good, "  said  Mr.  Mole.  "Then,  my  very  good 
young  men,  I  have." 

And  Mole  produced  a  pair  of  pistols. 

He  quietly  presented  one  at  each  of  them. 

"Now,"  said  he,  his  tipsy  demeanour  vanishing  at 
once,  "just  give  up  those  bags." 

"Never!  "  cried  the  two  robbers,  looking  at  each  other, 
surprised  at  Mole's  artful  trick. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  157 

"Then  I  shall  put  a  bullet — not  in  your  coat,  but  in 
your  head,"  said  Mole. 

"What?  would  you  kill  us  ?"  cried  the  men,  looking  as 
though  they  would  run. 

"Stop,  or  I  fire!" 

Mr.  Mole's  demeanour  had  some  thing  unpleasant  about 
it  now,  and  when  he  made  a  sort  of  jerky  movement  for- 
ward, down  dropped  a  bag  from  the  hand  of  one  of  thf 
robbers. 

"Now  the  other,  if  you  please." 

"  Come,  now,  I  say " 

"The  other,"  said  Mole,  sternly. 

"There!" 

Down  it  went. 

' '  Thank  you.     Now  the  rest. " 

"That's  all." 

"Come,  I  say,"  quoth  Mr.  Mole  in  awe-inspiring  ac- 
cents, *  *  don't  try  on  any  foolery  with  me,  for  I  have 
promised  to  take  home  some  plunder,  and  I  know  what 
you  have  got,  so  down  with  it. " 

The  two  knaves  looked  at  each  other  for  counsel. 
They  had  not  a  word  and  scarcely  a  look  for  themselves. 

"  You  must  be  quick,  or  one  of  these  pistols  may  go 
off,"  cried  Mole,  holding  them  in  a  line  with  the  robbers' 
heads. 

One  grumblingly  forked  out  a  canvas  bag  of  gold. 

"Go  on,  my  dear  boys,"  said  Mr.  Mole. 

'*I've  got  no  more." 

'*And  you?" 

"Not  a  skurrick,"  said  the  other,  whatever  a  skurrick 
might  be. 

' '  Then  off  with  you, "  said  Mole,  ' '  or  I'll  blow  you  into 
smithereens." 

His  look  alarmed  them. 

"  Now  if  you  are  not  off  by  the  time  I  count  ten,  I 
fire." 

Off  they  ran. 

And  when  they  were  fairly  out  of  sight,  Mole  picked  up 
the  bags  and  fastened  them  about  him. 

"  Ha,  ha  1  that's  a  stroke  of  business,"  said  he  to  him- 
self. "But  they  wouldn't  have  parted  with  their  treasure 
like  that  if  they  had  only  known  that  my^  pistols  were 
loaded  by  Mrs.  Mole  with  gunpowder — tea." 


158  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

And  chuckling  thus,  he  rode  home  on  his  cob. 

When  he  came  to  count  his  gains,  he  found  himself  not 
less  than  three  hundred  pounds  in  pocket  over  the  trans- 
action. 

"  This  is  a  real  slice,"  said  he. 

And  forthwith  he  set  himself  to  invent  a  plausible  yarn 
by  which  he  should  appear  even  more  heroic  than  he  had 
yet  shown  himself. 

"Oh,  oh  I"  laughed  Mole,  looking  at  his  coat-tails, 
"I  shall  turn  this  to  some  account.  Ha!  my  courage  is 
great." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE    PURSUIT  OF  HILDA— TINKER'S  PROGRAMME HOW  HE  THREW 

A    LIGHT    ON    THE    JOB. 

THE  alarm  of  Hilda's  abduction  soon  spread  in  the  set- 
tlement. 

Harvey,  as  you  may  suppose,  was  in  an  awful  state  of 
mind. 

A  party  of  armed  men  was  organised  in  the  space  of  a 
few  minutes,  and  dispatched  under  different  commanders 
in  pursuit. 

Their  object  was  to  spread  out,  and  cover  thus  the 
longest  line  of  country  possible,  and  then  at  a  certain 
distance,  begin  to  advance  at  each  extremity  of  the  line 
so  as  to  form  a  circle. 

In  this  way  the  advance  was  made  with  great  rapidity, 
when,  as  Harkaway  was  about  .to  start,  Tinker  came 
bounding  up  to  him. 

"  Massa  Harkaway,  Massa  Harkaway,"  he  cried  pant- 
ing. 

"Well?" 

"Suffin'  to  tell  yar,  Massa  Harkaway,"  he  panted. 

"Go  on  then!"  exclaimed  Harkaway,  impatiently; 
"for  I  have  no  time  to  lose." 

"Mrs.  Harvey " 

"Yes,  yes  ;  we  all  know  that — carried  off  by  Morgan's 
people,  no  doubt." 

"An'  Rook." 

"What?" 


ADVENTURES  IN  A VSTRALIA.  ,  ;  g 

"  Rook,  sar ;  dat  'femal  cantankerous  bad  Rook. 
Nasty  fellar,  Rook,  sar." 

Harkaway  grew  very  uncomfortable  at  this. 

"  Why,  what  do  you  know  against  Rook,  Tinker?" 

"Rook  am  Cap'en  Morgan's  man,  sar,"  replied  the  boy, 
with  a  significant  leer.  "Cap'en  Morgan  gib  him  ounces 
ob  de  yaller  gold  for  to  do  all  sort  bad  work ;  immense 
bery  awful  bad  fellow,  sar." 

Tinker's  extravagant  adjectives  worried  old  Jack  in  his 
present  state  of  mind. 

"  Just  say  what  you  mean,  Tinker,  and  don't  beat  about 
the  bush,  or  I'll  flay  you  alive. " 

"I  see  Rook  waitin',  sar,  waitin'  for  dat  Cap'en  Mor- 
gan, an'  dey  do  a  big  talk  all  about  Mrs.  Harvey." 

Harkaway  bounded  forward  at  this,  and  caught  Tinker 
by  the  throat. 

"  Don't  you  attempt  to  play  any  tricks  with  me,  don't 
tell  any  lies,  or  you'll  wish  you'd  never  been  born." 

"  I'se  tellin'  ob  de  troof,  ebery  word,  sar,  s'elp  me  golly, 
dere,  sar.  I  know,  sar,  I  watch  Rook,  'case  I  see  Cap'en 
Morgan  an'  de  oders  come  up,  an'  so  I  run  away  and  pre- 
tend to  be  awful  feared,  an'  den  I  come  back  and  I 


see- 


"What?" 

"  Lor',  Massa  Harkaway,  how  you  do  jump  down  poor 
Tinker's  froat — an'  den  I  see  Cap'en  Morgan  talking  wid 
Rook." 

"Hah!" 

"Yes,  sar." 

"What  about?" 

"All  'bout  taking  Mrs.  Harvey  away." 

' '  The  villain  !  "  groaned  Harkaway,  "after  all  I've  done 
for  him,  the  scoundrel." 

"Yes,  sar." 

"What  did  they  say?" 

"  He  want  Rook  to  help  him,  and  Rook  won't  an 
den  dey  say  all  sorts  naughty  words  together,  and  dey 
fight." 

"Fight!" 

"Yes,  sar." 

"Tinker,"  said  Harkaway,  looking  him  very  straight  in 
the  face,  "  you're  telling  me  lies." 

"No,  sar,"  protested  the  boy,   earnestly;    "dey  fight 


1 60  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

awful,    until  Cap'en   Morgan  smack  him  head   wid  der 
pistol,  and  Rook  lay  down  and  go  to  sleep. !' 

"Go  to  sleep,"  returned  old  Jack.  "Oh,  I  see  he 
fainted." 

' '  Yes,  sar  ;  dat's  it. " 

Harkaway  felt  this  a  relief  to  his  mind. 

It  was  painful  beyond  measure  to  think  Rook  could 
have  behaved  like  a  traitor. 

"Well,  well,  Tinker,"  he  said,  "  having  got  over  that, 
the  next  thing  is  to  see  about  getting  Mrs.  Harvey  back 
as  fast  as  we  can." 

"Yes,  sar,"  exclaimed  Tinker,  with  sudden  vivacity. 

Then  he  lapsed  into  sudden  silence  for  awhile,  from 
which  he  presently  awoke,  and  with  a  grin  he  said  to 
Harkaway,  in  a  tone  indicative  of  wonderful  self-confi- 
dence— 

'Tinker  do  dat." 
'  Do  what  ?  " 

'  Get  back  Missie  Harvey  awful  double  quick. " 
'  You  !  "  exclaimed  Harkaway,  with  a  smile. 
'Yes,  sar." 
' How  ? " 

'Massa  Harkaway  doesn't  recollect  dat  Tinker  was 
wid  Cap'en  Morgan,"  he  said,  slily. 

"Hah!"  ejaculated  Harkaway,  catching  at  once  at 
this  notion,  "  I  do  recollect,  Tinker;  and  if  you  are  a 
good  boy  and  true  to  us,  you  shall  earn  a  better  and  a 
greater  reward  than  any  thing  you  can  dream  of." 

Tinker  looked  earnestly  at  his  master  at  this. 

"Don't  want  nuffin',  Massa  Harkaway,  for  dat;  Missie 
Harvey  awful  partikler  fond  of  Tinker ;  Tinker  awful 
partikler  fond  of  Missie  Harvey.  Massa  Harvey  quite 
jealous  of  Tinker — yah,  yah  !  " 

Old  Jack  could  not  repress  a  smile  himself. 

"No  matter  for  that  I'll  undertake  to  say  that  Mr. 
Harvey  will  get  over  his  jealousy,  if  you  are  the  means  of 
restoring  his  wife  to  him. " 

' '  Yes,  sar. " 

"Now,  tell  me  quickly,  for  the  time  is  getting  on,  and 
I  am  growing  impatient  to  be  doing  some  thing  more  than 
gossip  here  ;  tell  me  how  you  propose  to  go  to  work." 

Tinker  began  his  reply  by  scratching  his  wool. 

"Tinker'll  go  back  fust,  and  den  he'll  see,  and  have  a 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TR  A  LI  A.  i  0 1 

talkee-talkee,  and  watch,  and  whistle  you  all  when  to 
come  up  !  Bring  all  de  niggers  and  all  de  gallopshus 
make-fires  ;  and  hab  a  cantankerous  immense  big  blaze 
away  at  Cap'en  Morgan." 

"Very  good,  Tinker,"  said  Harkaway  ;  "  I  think  I  can 
trust  you  now." 

"Yes,  sar. " 

"Then  let  this  be  the  signal  between  us  ;  but  first  let 
me  recommend  the  greatest  caution,  my  good  Tinker." 

Tinker  winked. 

"Yes,  sar,  Tinker  am  sich  an  artful  cuss — yah,  yah  !  " 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

HILDA  AND    THE    BUSHRANGERS FAMILIAR    FACES AN    ALARM 

TINKER  THE  SPY MORE  NEWS. 

HILDA  struggled  vainly  in  the  arms  of  her  captor. 

The  strength  of  the  notorious  bushranger  was  some 
thing  prodigious. 

In  spite  of  all  her  wildest  efforts,  she  was  borne  away. 

After  a  certain  time,  her  strength  began  to  fail  her. 

Her  fright  was  piteous  to  behold. 

A  deathly  faintness  stole  over  her,  and  her  senses  were 
fast  deserting  her. 

The  sickly  pallor  of  her  cheek  evidently  alarmed  the 
daring  Morgan. 

"  Come,  come,  sweet  one, "  said  he  ;  "  let  this  revive  you. " 

And  he  pressed  his  lips  to  her  cheek. 

Hilda  was  aroused  at  this  indignity,  and  she  fought  her 
captor  furiously. 

Seizing  him  by  the  hair,  she  tore  so  viciously  at  him, 
that  in  sheer  self-defence  he  let  her  fall. 

As  soon  as  she  was  upon  her  feet,  she  fled. 

But  her  success  was  short-lived,  for  in  the  space  of  a 
minute  or  two,  the  bushranger  was  upon  her  again. 

"If  you  get  so  rumbustical,  my  love,"  said  he,  press- 
ing her  to  him  in  spite  of  herself,  "  we  must  find  some 
means  of  holding  you  down  ;  don't  scratch,  or  I  shall 
have  to  clip  your  claws." 


162  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

They  reached  their  destination  after  a  weary  journey, 
for  Hilda  would  not  walk. 

Such  a  burden  to  carry  is  all  very  well  for  awhile,  but 
even  the  most  muscular  man  must  necessarily  tire  under 
the  load  that  he  had  to  bear. 

Upon  their  arrival  at  the  bushranger's  camp,  they  were 
met  by  two  men,  amongst  others,  whose  appearance 
struck  additional  terror  to  her  soul. 

One  was  Hunston,  who  had  ever  been  associated  with 
the  troubles  of  herself  and  her  friends. 

Toro,  the  Italian  brigand  and  bully,  was  the  other. 

"  Hallo  !"  cried  Hunston,  "why,  you  have  bagged  a 
prize,  Captain  Morgan." 

"Don't  you  see  who  the  prize  is ? "  exclaimed  Toro. 

"A  lady?" 

"Aye  ;  but  who  ?  " 

Hunston  stared  again. 

"Is  it  possible  ?  Can  I  believe  the  evidence  of  my  own 
eyes?  Mrs.  Harvey?" 

Hilda  roused  at  this,  and  drawing  herself  up  before 
Hunston  she  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  of  passionate  en- 
ergy— 

"  If  you  have  a  spark  of  manhood  left,  Mr.  Hunston, 
you  will  protect  me  from  these  ruffians. " 

"Gently,  gently,  fair  one,"  said  Captain  Morgan  ;  "no 
names." 

"No  one  means  you  any  harm,  Mrs.  Harvey,"  said 
Hunston,  "  and  as  you  are  Captain  Morgan's  guest " 

"  Prisoner. " 

"  If  he  likes  to  place  you  under  my  care,  I  am  sure  we 
shall  get  on  well  together. " 

There  was  nothing  much  in  the  words,  but  the  look  that 
accompanied  them  made  her  shiver. 

He  drew  near  with  an  ominous  gesture,  when  Morgan 
stepped  before  him. 

"Stand  back  !" 

"Why,  really,  Captain  Morgan,  I  am  an  old  acquaint- 
ance. " 

"  Enough,"  said  Morgan,  sharply;  "there  is  nothing 
like  an  understanding.  Remember  that  I  allow  no 
familiarities  with  my  guests.  This  lady  must  be  treated 
with  as  much  respect  as  myself.  Let  the  least  complaint 
come  from  her  about  you,  or  about  anyone  of  you,  woe 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US 'TR  ALIA.  1 63 

betide  him.      He  will  have  to  render  me  strict  account 
Do  you  hear? " 

' '  You  are  too " 

"Silence  !  "  shouted  the  bushranger. 

Hunston  was  about  to  make  some  hasty  rejoinder, 
when  the  expression  of  the  bushranger  captain  caused 
him  to  be  prudent. 

Morgan  was  an  unpleasant  enemy  to  make,  and  Hun- 
ston felt  an  instinctive  dread  of  him. 

Disagreeable  forebodings  were  ever  in  his  mind  in  the 
presence  of  the  redoubtable  bushranger. 

Were  these  forebodings  really  justified? 

Time  will  show. 

Meanwhile,  Hunston  with  difficulty  swallowed  his 
wrath,  and  walked  away  moodily. 

"Come  what  may,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "I  shall 
make  a  point  of  squaring  accounts  with  our  bully  friend 
Morgan.  Hang  his  impudence." 

****** 

"  Place  the  guard  for  the  night,"  said  Morgan. 
One  of  his  most  reliable  men  proceeded  to  this  task, 
when  suddenly  a  black  object  tumbled  into  the  open  out 
from  a  cluster  of  thickly-grown  shrubs  and  bushes. 
"Hallo!" 

"Shoot  him  down  !  " 

"The  blacks  are  upon  us!"  cried  Captain  Morgan. 
"Up  with  every  mother's  son  of  you.  Look  to  your 
rifles. " 

"Yah,  yah  !  "  said  a  familiar  voice,  "don't  be  so  cata- 
wampously   immense  big    frightened,    Cap'en    Morgan. 
Taint  de  debil,  only  poor  nigger  cove,  boy  Tinker." 
'  Tinker !  " 
'Yah,  yah." 

'  What  brings  you  here  ?  " 

'Got    away    from    Massa    Harkaway,    sar, "    replied 
Tinker,  "  and  I'se  come  to  gib  you  warning." 
'  Of  what  ? " 
'  Dey's  coming. " 
'  What,  here  ?  " 

'  Dey  no  find  out  yet,  but  dey  got  a  big  lot  of  men 
from  eberywhere ;  all  got  horses  and  make  fires.  We 
get  off,  sar,  sharp,  sar,  or  de  debils  come  up  and  make 
sassingers  of  dis  fair  infant.  Yah,  yah  !  " 


164  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOWS 

Hilda  heard. 

She  recognised  Tinker  at  once,  and  at  first  she  had 
gained  new  hope. 

But  now,  on  hearing,  as  she  thought,  that  he  was  in 
league  with  the  bushrangers,  despair  seized  her. 

"Deceitful  wretch!"  she  cried,  passionately,  at  the 
black  boy.  "After  all  the  kindness  we  have  shown 
you." 

"  Yah,  yah  !  "  grinned  Tinker  ;  "you  no  lub  me." 

Hilda  was  violent,  and  in  her  indignation  she  quite 
forgot  the  terrors  of  her  present  situation. 

"  If  I  ever  get  back,  you  shall  have  a  sound  whipping 
for  this,  you  little  fiend  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"Yah,  yah!  " 

And  "  Yah,  yah  !  "  being  all  she  could  get  out  of  him, 
she  said  no  more,  but  bit  her  lips  in  sheer  mortification. 

Meanwhile,  the  bushrangers  redoubled  their  vigilance 
round  their  camp. 

Not  a  precaution  was  neglected. 

Sentries  were  posted  in  all  directions. 

And  now  it  was  that  Captain  Morgan  showed  how  ad- 
mirably fitted  he  was  for  the  post  of  commander. 

He  was  everywhere  at  once,  and  displayed  the  greatest 
energy  and  activity  without  making  any  particular  fuss 
about  it. 

"Stay  you  there,  Tinker,"  he  said,  turning  round,  be- 
fore quitting  the  sight  of  his  prisoner. 

"Yes,  Captain  Morgan.  Tinker  keep  dam  partik'lar 
watch  over  lubby  gal,  sar  ;  yah,  yah  !  " 

"That's  right." 

And  the  captain  of  the  bushrangers,  perfectly  at  ease 
in  his  mind  upon  that  score,  turned  round  and  resumed 
his  duties.  Now  when  Morgan  was  fairly  out  of  sight, 
Tinker's  demeanour  changed  with  strange  suddenness. 

He  dropped  his  aggravating  laugh,  and  turned  serious 
at  once. 

He  shot  a  glance  of  meaning  at  Mrs.  Harvey,  and  then 
he  marched  off  to  the  clump  of  trees  which  sheltered  the 
open  spot  at  no  great  distance. 

He  dodged  in  and  out  of  these  forest  monarchs  to  as- 
certain that  there  were  no  interlopers  on  the  watch,  and 
then  back  he  ran. 

But  just  as  he  was  returning,  a  tall,  dark  figure  made 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRAUA.  j  65 

a  sudden  appearance  upon  the  scene,  and  stepped  up  to 
Hilda 

"My  fair  Hilda,"  said  Toro,  for  it  was  the  Italian, 
"you're  looking  now  lovelier  than  ever." 

Hilda  curled  her  lip  haughtily,  but  was  silent 

"Come,  Mrs.  Harvey,  beauteous  signora,  one  chaste 
salute — nay,  don't  refuse  me.  I  have  loved  you  from  the 
first." 

He  would  have  seized  her  in  his  arms,  but  Hilda  was 
not  to  be  thus  rudely  approached  with  impunity. 

She  dragged  herself  away,  and  called  loudly  for  help. 

In  an  instant  Tinker  came  bounding  up  to  the  spot. 

"  Be  off,  you  imp  of  Satan  !  "  thundered  Toro ;  "be  off, 
or  I'll  slay  you." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Tinker,  grinning,  "you  no  kill  Tinker, 
but  Tinker  kill  you  gollopshus  immense  big  quick  if  you 
ain't  gone." 

Toro,  with  a  fierce  oath,  strode  after  the  black  boy. 

Now  Tinker  showed  extreme  artfulness,  for  he  appeared 
to  dodge  him,  and  yet  he  allowed  himself  to  be  caught. 

"  Now  you  shall  have  it !  "  muttered  Toro,  between  his 
teeth. 

Holding  the  black  boy  with  one  hand,  he  made  a 
sharp  slap  at  him  with  the  other. 

Down  bobbed  Tinker. 

"Yah,  yah!" 

"Curse  your  yah,  yah!"  cried  the  Italian,  furiously 
seizing  him  again.  "Take  that !  " 

Tinker  was  out  of  his  arms  again  in  a  jiffy. 

A  precious  awkward  thing  to  hold  was  Tinker,  for 
beyond  one  very  small  garment,  he  had  no  clothes  on 
whatever. 

His  skin  was  smooth  and  shining,  and  altogether  he 
was  as  difficult  to  hold  as  an  eel. 

Toro  was  about  to  fly  after  the  boy  again,  when  sud- 
denly he  felt  a  sharp,  stinging  sensation  on  his  right  leg, 
just  above  the  knee,  and  looking  down,  found  that  it  was 
bleeding. 

"Why,  what  on  earth " 

He  paused  in  utter  amazement. 

"Want  any  more  like  dat,  bully  man?"  asked  Tinker. 

"  Why,  you  have  stabbed  me  !  " 

"Yes,  bully  man,"  grinned  the  boy,  "  only  a  lilly  bit  ; 


1 66  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

gib    you   immense    cantankerous    lot   more  next   time. 
Don't  be  greedy,  yah,  yah  !  " 

And  then  he  took  from  his  loin  cloth  a  stumpy  knife, 
with  which  he  had  contrived  to  wound  the  Italian. 

But  the  latter  had  not  felt  the  wound  in  the  excitement 
of  catching  the  eel-like  black  boy. 

"I'll  kill  you  for  this,"  said  Toro,  fiercely. 

"Oh,  no,"  returned  the  Tinker,  with  irritating  cheerful- 
ness, "you  no  catchey  Tinker.  Massa  Morgan  beat 
you,  and  you  awful  big  afraid  ob  Massa  Morgan  ;  yah, 
yah  !  " 

Toro  bandaged  his  leg  round  with  his  neckcloth,  and 
then  made  after  the  boy. 

But  he  might  as  well  have  tried  to  catch  a  rainbow,  or 
an  electric  shock. 

Tinker  was,  as  vulgar  folks  say,  all  over  the  shop  at 
once. 

He  was  a  master  in  the  art  of  aggravating,  too,  and  he 
had  an  endless  lot  of  tricks  calculated  to  goad  a  man  like 
Toro  to  desperation. 

He  would  wait  until  he  got  close  up  to  him,  and  then, 
after  some  insulting  gesture,  he  would  pelt  him  with  a 
handful  of  mud  or  stones,  and  bound  away  like  a  rocket. 

In  the  course  of  this  singular  chase,  Tinker  ran  round 
towards  the  spot  where  Hilda  stood,  and  here  he  pulled 
up  short,  holding  his  hands  behind  him  while  he  waited 
for  Toro  to  approach. 

The  Italian  came  on. 

But  he  did  not  observe  that  Tinker  had  handed  Mrs. 
Harvey  a  piece  of  paper. 

She  opened  it  eagerly,  and  found,  hurriedly  written 
upon  it,  these  words — 

"  Keep  up  your  courage  ;  we  are  near,  and  shall  soon 
set  you  free.  The  bearer  of  this  is  a  friend,  in  whom  you 
may  implicitly  rely. 

"JACK    H." 

The  words  danced  before  her  eyes. 

For  a  moment  she  quite  forgot  her  presence  of  mind, 
and  she  spoke  her  thoughts  aloud. 

"How  I  wronged  that  brave  boy!  Poor  Tinker! 
They  are  here,  perhaps — perhaps  even  now  about  to  rush 
in  and  drive  these  wretches  and  ruffians  away." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  167 

Toro  advanced,  and  Tinker  dodged  away  as  usual. 

But  Toro  caught  sight  of  the  open  paper  in  Hilda's 
hand,  and  in  an  instant  his  suspicions  were  aroused. 

Without  one  word  or  sign  of  warning,  he  made  a  stride 
forward  and  snatched  the  paper  from  her  hand. 

"  What  is  this  ?  Hah!  treason!"  he  cried.  "By  the 
fiends,  the  boy  shall  die  !  " 

The  words  were  barely  uttered,  when  Tinker  sprang 
upon  him  with  the  agility  of  a  monkey,  and  snatched  the 
paper  away. 

His  stumpy  knife  played  its  part  again,  for  Toro 
received  a  hideous  gash  in  the  cheek  that  laid  bare  the 
bone. 

Toro  gave  a  yell  of  mingled  agony  and  rage. 

"You  Satan's  egg!"  he  yelled,  holding  his  cheek, 
while  the  blood  poured  through  his  fingers,  "you  shall 
die  by  slow  torture  for  this." 

"Big  bully  man;  yah,  yah!"  was  Tinker's  only 
reply. 

And  he  threw  in  another  sight,  placing  his  fingers  to 
his  nose,  and  wound  up  by  pelting  the  wounded  Toro 
with  pebbles. 

Just  at  this  moment  Captain  Morgan  came  up  with 
two  of  his  followers. 

"Hullo!"  he  cried;  "why,  what  is  all  this  outcry? 
I  thought  the  Philistines  were  down  upon  us." 

"  Seize  that  boy  !  "  cried  the  Italian. 

They  laid  hands  upon  Tinker,  who  stood  very  pluckily 
in  custody. 

"I  found  him  conniving  with  the  prisoner;  he  gave 
her  a  letter." 

"Oh,"  exclaimed  the  virtuous  Tinker,  "what  a 
naughty,  great  big  lie." 

"  A  letter  !  "  cried  Captain  Morgan. 

"Yes." 

"Where  is  it?" 

"He  has  it  now/' 

They  searched  the  black  boy. 

He  had  not  many  corners  to  conceal  anything,  you  see, 
and  they  found  nothing  at  all  upon  him. 

"There  are  no  signs  of  a  letter,"  said  Morgan,  sternly. 

"Then  he  has  swallowed  it,"  persisted  Toro. 

He  was  right.     Tinker  had. 


1 68  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

At  the  first  sign  of  danger,  he  scrambled  it  into  his 
mouth  and  bolted  it  as  easily  as  if  it  had  been  a  Cockle's 
antibilious. 

The  ingenious  black  boy,  however,  threw  up  his  hands, 
showed  the  whites  of  his  eyes,  and  appeared  otherwise 
greatly  scandalised. 

"Oh,  my,  what  a  great  whacker,  Cap'en  Morgan,  sar," 
he  said,  in  virtuous  indignation.  "  Dis  naughty,  ugly 
fellar  wanted  to  kiss  your  gal — de  imperant  beast ! — an'  I 
ses — 'Cap'en  Morgan  left  Tinker  on  guard,  so  no  you 
don't/ — and  ses  he — 'Yes  I  do,'  and  he  went  forme; 
but  I  gib  him  one  in  de  leg  and  anoder  in  de  cheek,  and 
he  no  like  my  nicey-niceys,  and  he  couldn't  catch  me, 
and  den,  in  a  beast  of  a  great,  big,  immense  temper,  he 
ses — '  I'll  told  Cap'en  Morgan  dat  you  brought  a  letter, 
and  den  Cap'en  Morgan'll  gib  you  suffin'  for  yourself. ' " 

This  sounded  like  the  truth. 

Morgan  glanced  from  the  boy  to  Toro  and  then  to  Mrs. 
Harvey. 

Approaching  the  latter,  he  raised  his  hat  politely. 

"  I  hope,  madam,  that  you  have  been  put  to  no  annoy- 
ance by  my  people,"  he  said. 

"But  for  that  boy  I  should  have  been  subjected  to  the 
grossest  insults  from  that  ruffian,  your  worthy  comrade." 

Morgan  changed  colour. 

"Has  he  dared " 

"  The  boy  spoke  the  truth  when  he  told  you  that  he 
had  defended  me." 

Morgam  nodded  his  head  in  a  determined  manner. 

"Good  ;  we  can't  allow  this  sort  of  thing  to  continue. 
An  example  must  be  made  ;  seize  Toro. " 

Several  of  the  bushrangers  obeyed  his  order. 

"Tie  him  up." 

"Not  before  me,"  cried  Mrs.  Harvey,  eagerly,  "not 
before  me,  I  implore." 

"Your  wishes  are  law  to  me,"  returned  the  bushranger 
.Chief ;  ' '  remove  him. " 

The  Italian  was  bustled  away  from  the  spot 

"Now,  Tinker." 

"Yes,  sar." 

"  Get  some  nice  pliable  switches,   willows  if  you  can." 

"Yes,  sar,"  said  Tinker,  in  eager  anticipation. 

"And  flog  away  until  you  are  tired  out." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  1 6g 

"Tinker  no  get  tired  eber ;  him  work  hard,  yah,  yah; 
whack  !  whack  !  on  de  big  Toro's  back." 

And  grinning  all  over  his  face,  the  black  boy  turned  off 
to  the  flogging. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

IN     WHICH    A    DISGRACEFUL    CONSPIRACY    IS    HATCHED    AGAINST 
ISAAC    MOLE. 

THE  greatest  excitement  prevailed  in  Harkawayville, 
as  they  had  christened  their  new  settlement. 

Anxious  moments  these  were  indeed  for  all  who  were 
left  behind. 

Amongst  these  were  of  course  the  ladies,  with  the  un- 
fortunate exception  of  the  one  whose  loss  caused  the 
present  trouble. 

The  two  boys,  young  Jack  and  his  comrade  Harry 
Girdwood,  were  left  on  guard. 

Mr.  Mole,  too. 

The  unfortunate  ex-convict  Rook  was  found  to  be  in  a 
most  precarious  condition,  and  he  was  tended  with  the 

greatest  care  by  the  ladies. 

****** 

"Do  you  know,  my  dear  Jack,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  "I 
can  scarcely  restrain  my  impatience  when  I  think " 

"Of  what,  sir?" 

"Of  your  dear,  brave  father  and  poor  Dick  being  in 
peril  there,  while  we  are  on  guard  here.  I  long  for " 

"For  what  ? " 

' '  Glory,  Jack,  glory  ;  to  share  the  dangers.  I  was 
never  born  for  a  quiet  life  ;  my  love  was  danger  always." 

' '  Ahem  !  " 

"You  appear  doubtful." 

"Not  I,  sir." 

"Well,  I  must  tell  you  that  I  have  grown  rusty  since 
my  last  little  skirmish  on  my  way  from  the  gold  fields 
yonder.  Gold ;  what  a  magic  ring !  What  music ! 
What  fascination  in  the  sound,  but  still  the  word  danger 
I  love  better. " 

"Yes,"  said  Jack,  smiling  inwardly  at  the  old  gentle- 
man's enthusiasm. 


^70  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"  This  is  a  wonderful  country.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
there  was  gold  upon  the  very  earth  we  tread." 

"Mr.  Mole,  Mr.  Mole,"  cried  a  clear,  ringing  voice, 
with  a  pleasing  foreign  accent;  "you  are  growing 
greedy,  I  fear." 

"  Not  I,  Paquita,  my  dear,"  said  the  old  gentleman; 
"only  it  is  really  a  tempting  subject  to  excite  even  the 
most  stoical  of  our  kind. " 

"  Harry,"  said  Paquita. 

"Yes." 

"  We  want  you  and  Jack." 

The  two  boys  followed  Paquita  into  the  house. 

They  found  little  Emily  awaiting  them. 

The  poor  child  was  in  the  greatest  distress,  and,  in- 
deed, had  never  got  over  the  shock  which  the  outrage  on 
her  mother  had  occasioned  her. 

She  was  constantly  in  tears,  and  knew  not  a  moment's 
rest  in  mind  or  in  body. 

Young  Jack,  her  gallant  champion,  was  the  only 
person  who  could  cheer  her  at  all. 

Paquita  knew  this  well. 

"  Here,  Jack,"  said  little  Emily,  forcing  an  appear- 
ance of  cheerfulness  which  she  was  far  from  feeling  ; 
"  here  are  the  English  papers.  Now  come,  all  of  us,  and 
have  a  good  read." 

"Let  Harry  read  out  to  us,"  said  young  Jack  ;  "he's 
the  best  reader. " 

This  was  settled,  and  Harry  Girdwood  selected  some 
interesting  pieces  until  he  came  upon  one  which  excited 
general  attention,  and  led  to  some  very  singular  results. 

"  Salting  a  mine." 

"Whatever  can  that  mean,  Harry  ?"- said  little 
Emily. 

"Wait  a  bit  ;  this  would  interest  old  Mole  finely." 

He  read  it  down,  and  found  that  it  was  a  law  case 
exciting  great  attention  in  London,  which  treated  of  a 
gigantic  swindle  in  getting  up  a  company  for  the  pur- 
chase of  a  diamond  mine. 

Diamonds  had  been  purchased  at  a  great  cost,  and  the 
ground  which  they  proposed  purchasing  was  "salted" — 
i.e. ,  sprinkled  with  real  diamonds  just  before  it  was 
visited  by  the  committee  of  inspection. 

"This  is  glorious!"  exclaimed  young  Jack,   laughing 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


171 


all  over  his  face.  "How  I  should  like  to  salt  a  mine 
for  old  Mole." 

"  Not  easily  done — we  want  the  materials,"  said  Harry. 

"  The  diamonds  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  But  I  mean  a  gold  mine." 

"  I  see — but  how  ?  " 

"Why,  we  could  get  a  little  real  gold  if  necessary,  but 
I  don't  see  that  it  is  ;  that's  near  enough,"  he  added, 
pointing  to  an  old-fashioned  brass  candlestick. 

"That?" 

"Yes." 

"Now,  now,  it's  all  very  well,  but  old  Mole  is  not  to 
be  gulled  without  a  little  trouble." 

"Perhaps  not,  but  you  have  heard  of  candlestick 
gold  ? " 

' '  Yes. " 

"Well,  then,  I  know  that  this  old  fellow  melted  down 
would  make  lovely  gold,  and  you  shall  see  it  too." 

Poor  Mole. 

Fun  and  danger  loomed  in  the  distance  once  more. 

And  yet,  at  this  very  moment,  he  was  calmly  sleeping 
hard  by,  dozing  after  a  whisky  toddy  of  such  a  strength 
as  would  make  you  or  I  wink  again. 

But  the  details  of  the  infamous  conspiracy  against  the 
worthy  Isaac's  peace  of  mind  must  be  related  in  another 
chapter. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

HOW  IT   WAS    PREPARED    FOR    MR.  MOLE — WHAT    WICKEDNESS  !— 

THE  GREED  OF  GOLD THE  TRANSFER MOLE  A  MINE  OWNER — 

WHAT  NUGGETS  ! WHAT  GOLD  ! — WHAT  WEALTH  ! 

"  FIRST  take  our  candlestick,"  said  young  Jack,  "and 
melt  it  carefully  down  into  little  bits,  then  pick  out  the 
mine,  then  remove  a  few  inches  of  the  earth  from  the 
surface  and  mix  the  nuggets  sparsely,  mind,  so  as  not  to 
excite  any  suspicions." 

"Then,"  added  Harry  Girdwood,  solemnly,  "we  let 
Mr.  Mole  have  an  accidental  view,  and  see  what  can  be 
done. " 


172  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"Agreed." 

They  shook  hands  over  this  iniquitous  compact,  the 
young  miscreants,  and  completed  their  proceedings. 
*  *  *  *  *  * 

Some  few  days  after  this,  strange  rumours  got  to  be 
buzzed  about  the  settlement. 

The  two  darkeys,  Sunday  and  Monday,  it  was  whispered, 
had  lighted  upon  gold. 

You  can  imagine  the  effect  of  these  reports. 

The  two  dusky  diggers  roped-in  their  ground  and  al- 
lowed none  of  the  curious  to  approach  too  closely. 

Mr.  Mole  heard  these  rumours  in  due  course,  as  Harry 
and  young  Jack  took  care  he  should,  and  down  he  hobbled 
to  see  for  himself. 

Now  began  the  extreme  artfulness. 

The  conspirators  had  well  matured  their  plans. 

They  hung  back,  pretending  to  take  no  particular 
notice  of  the  matter,  and  awaited  Mr.  Mole. 

He  came. 

They  knew  that  he  was  sure  to  tackle  them,  and  he  did. 

"  Do  you  really  think,  dear  boys,  that  these  two  niggers 
have  hit  upon  a  mine? "  he  said. 

" Of  course  they  have, "  said  young  Jack,  "not  much 
doubt  about  that,  eh,  Harry  ?  " 

"But  of  course,  Mr.  Mole,  it  belongs  to  them,"  said 
Harry. 

"And  what — what  can  be  the  value  of  their  find?" 
asked  Mr.  Mole,  eagerly. 

"Can't  say." 

"But  you  have  seen  a  good  deal  more  of  it  than  I 
have,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  eagerly  ;  "  what  should  you  say  ?  " 

"A  few  thousands  at  the  outside,"  suggested  Harry 
Girdwood,  "  only  a  few." 

"  Yes,"  said  young  Jack,  "these  mines  are  so  decep- 
tive, you  never  know  what's  what" 

"Precisely." 

"Sometimes  a  good  thing  turns  out  a  regular  duffer." 

' '  A  what  ?  " 

"Duffer." 

"I  object  to  such  an  expression,"  said  Mr.  Mole  who 
was  upon  his  dignity,  "even  when  a  gold  mine  is  in 
question.  Slang,  my  dear  boys,  is  objectionable  in  man, 
woman,  or  child." 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


'7* 


'Quite  so,"  said  Harry. 

'  But  what  is  your  real  opinion  about " 

'  The  mine  ?  " 
'Yes." 

'It  is  a  fine  thing,"  said  young  Jack,  "but  I  don't 
want  Sunday  or  Monday  to  get  too  great  an  idea  of  it,  or 
they  might  run  the  price  up  of  their  treasure." 

"I  see,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  winking  and  looking  most 
artful,  "  they  want  to  sell  ?  " 

"Not  want  to,"  replied  young  Jack;  "they  would, 
perhaps,  and  I  should  like  dad  to  buy  as  cheap  as  pos- 
sible." 

Mr.  Mole  walked  away. 

These  words  made  a  deep  impression  on  his  mind,  and 
he  came  speedily  to  the  inevitable  conclusion  that  he 
would  like  to  be  the  purchaser. 

The  conspirators  had,  of  course,  calculated  upon  this. 

So  he  sought  Sunday  on  the  quiet,  and  sounded  him. 

"I  can't  say  as  I  want  to  sell  it,  brudder  Mole,"  said 
Sunday,  "an'  if  I  did,  I  don't  s'pose  that  I  could  find 
anyone  to  give  my  price." 

Mr.  Mole  fidgeted. 

"What  do  you  call  your  price?"  he  asked,  vainly  try- 
ing to  conceal  his  eagerness. 

' '  Oh,  a  whole  lot  of  money, "  said  Sunday. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?  Ten  pounds?"  asked 
Mr.  Mole,  by  way  of  a  feeler. 

"  More  likely  fifty,"  returned  Sunday. 

Mole  chuckled. 

If  the  find  was  worth  anything  at  all,  fifty  pounds  was 
a  ridiculously  small  price  to  put  upon  it. 

What  could  be  better  ? 

"  Perhaps  I  might  buy  it,"  said  he,  in  an  off-hand  way, 
"  if  we  could  come  to  terms.  I  should  like  to  see  it  very 
much. " 

"Well,"  said  Sunday,  "  as  you  are  my  own  brudder, 
in  a  manner  of  speaking,  I  don't  know  that  I  ought  to 
refuse.  But  Monday  don't  let  no  one  look  at  it ;  ^yalt 
until  there  ain't  no  one  about,  and  then  you  can  come  in. 

"All  right." 

And  Mr.  Mole  walked  off  to  chuckle  and  rub  his  hands 

in  silent  satisfaction. 

****** 


174  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

They  were  alone. 

Mr.  Mole  stood  within  the  magic  circle,  the  roped-in 
space  to  which  the  two  darkeys,  Sunday  and  Monday, 
asserted  their  claim. 

"So  this  is  the  spot !  "  said  Mole.  "Who  would  ever 
imagine  that  we  were  walking  pver  the  precious  metal 
here ?  However  did  you  find  it  out? " 

"I  was  digging  some  sand  out  when  I  first  got  hold 
of  a  bit  of  yellow  metal,"  replied  Sunday,  "  a  lump." 

"A  lump?"  echoed  Mr.  Mole,  in  awe-stricken  accents. 
' '  Large  ?  " 

"Very." 

"Goodness  me!  I  should  so  much  like  to  see  some 
of  it,"  said  Mr.  Mole. 

"Easy  enough,"  returned  Sunday,  promptly. 

So  saying,  he  placed  a  shovel  in  the  old  gentleman's 
hands. 

"  Have  a  dig." 

Mr.  Mole  said  never  a  word,  but  drove  the  spade  into 
the  soft,  yielding  earth. 

One  shovelful  was  turned  over,  and  as  he  let  the  sand 
and  earth  drop  from  it,  half  a  dozen  heavy  nuggets  fell 
to  the  ground. 

Mole's  eyes  dilated  as  he  plumped  on  and  scrambled 
them  up  in  his  hands. 

"  Gold,  gold,  gold  !  "  he  muttered,  vainly  endeavouring 
to  subdue  his  excitement ;  "what  a  feast,  ye  gods  !  " 

"You  ain't  found  much,  brudder  Mole?"  said  Sunday, 
who  was  complacently  smoking  his  pipe. 

"No,  no,  no  !  "  returned  Mole,  "not  much." 

"Not  so  much  as  I  turned  up  every  go,  brudder 
Mole." 

Mole  gave  a  subdued  but  ecstatic  groan. 

"  How  much  do  you  want  for  me  to  take  it  off  your 
hands?" 

•    H  '.v  pounds." 

-'•'s  Monday?  " 

••':  •>•  I  am,  Mr.  Mole,"  said  the  Prince  of  Limbi, 
st ••;>];; ;;:;  up,  for  he  had  been  hanging  about  awaiting  his 
cue. 

niday  wants  to  buy  out  your  right  to  this  piece  of 
land  for  fifty  pounds." 

"  Does  he?  "  said  Monday  ;   "well  considerin'  thai  it's 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTKALIA.  ,75 

mine  ^as  well  as  his,  he  might  ask  me  before  he  does 
anything." 

"Just  so." 

"  I  hope  they're  not  going  to  quarrel  over  it,"  thought 
Mole,  anxiously;  "there  never  was  a  more  foolish  in- 
vention than  partnership."  . 

"I  know  you  would  like  for  brudder  Mole  to  have  it, 
Monday,"  the  darkey  said,  in  a  semi-apologetic  tone  to 
his  partner  in  the  diggings. 

"Oh,  of  course.     Mole  is  our  friend." 

"If  that's  agreed,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  much  relieved  and 
eager  to  clinch  the  bargain,  "here's  the  money." 

"Good,  friend  Mole.  You  will  make  your  fortune. 
Vou  find  lots  of  gold,  if  you  dig  long  enough  for  it." 

"Let's  have  it  all  in  fair  and  business-like  order.  Give 
•sne  a  receipt,  and  state  on  it  what  it  is  all  for,"  said  Mole. 

"  Bery  good,  brudder  Mole,"  said  Sunday,  leering  at 
his  black  partner  ;  "  you  draw  up  de  paper  dockyment, 
and  we'll  write  our  names  to  it." 

4 '  Agreed. " 

"That's  capital,"  said  Mr.  Mole.  "I'm  delighted  to 
find  you  such  business-like  people  ;  and  now,  all  we  have 
to  do,"  he  added,  producing  a  written  paper  from  his 
pocket,  "  is  to  sign  this." 

Sunday  took  the  paper,  and  scanned  its  contents. 

Then  he  handed  it  to  Monday. 

"Why,  Mr.  Mole,"  said  the  latter,  "you  have  got  it 
already  written  out. " 

Mr.   Mole  appeared  slightly  confused  at  this. 

"Yes,  I  have,"  he  said,  coughing  a  little  ;  "I  had  some 
faint  idea  that  you  would  perhaps  be  inclined  to  treat 
with  me." 

"Oh." 

"Yes." 

"  How  very  odd." 

A  short  silence  ensued ;  and  then  Mr.  Mole  produced 
u  pen  and  an  inkhorn. 

It  looked  as  if  every  thing  had  been  cut  and  dried  in 
he  old  gentleman's  mind. 

"Well,"  he  said,  nervously,  "we  had  better  sign." 

"Perhaps  you'd  like  to  try  the  ground  a  bit  more  be- 
.bre  you  settle  it,"  suggested  Monday. 

"They're  hanging  fire,"  said  Mr.   Mole  to  himself. 


1 76  JA  CK  HARK  A  WAY  A  ND  HIS  SON'S 

"No,  no,"  he  added  aloud,  in  as  off-hand  a  manner  as 
he  could  assume,  "  we  are  all  friends  together,  and  there's 
no  deception." 

"Oh,  no,"  exclaimed  Sunday,  showing  the  whites  of 
his  eyes  in  his  virtuous  reproof  even  of  the  remark  ; 
"could  I  deceive  my  own  brudder?" 

"Oh,  bother  the  brother,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  impatiently, 
for  he  never  relished  the  claim  of  kindred  which  Sunday 
was  constantly  asserting. 

Sunday  grinned. 

"Sign  away,  all  of  us,  den,"  he  said. 

And  he  opened  the  final  negotiation  by  scrawling  his 
own  signature  across  the  document. 

Monday  grinned. 

"  That's  it,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  folding  up  the  paper  and 
pocketing  it;  " now  it's  mine.  I  will  to  work,  and  find 
gold,  gold,  gold." 

Sunday  and  Monday  grinned  as  they  walked  away. 

There  was  a  ring  in  their  laugh  that  the  worthy  old 
gentleman  hardly  liked. 

No  matter. 

He  held  the  treasure. 

"What  did  the  quaint  niggers  mean  by  that  hoarse 
laugh  ?  "  he  asked  himself  again  and  again  ;  "no  matter, 
those  laugh  best  who  laugh  last." 

Still  he  had  just  the  faintest  misgivings. 

"Surely,  they  can't  have  played  me  any  trick  ?"  he 
said  to  himself,  again  and  again.  "Oh,  no " 

He  stooped  and  picked  up  a  piece  of  the  shining  yellow 
metal. 

"This  is  solid  fact,"  he  said,  as  he  fondled  it  in  his 
hand,  "  solid,  solid  fact,  and  there's  no  mistake  about  it." 

He  looked  about  him  anxiously  as  he  spoke. 

Already  his  newly-acquired  wealth  was  bringing  its 
penalties. 

Such  is  the  price  of  riches. 

"  I  shan't  be  able  to  leave  it  night  or  day,"  he  said  to 
himself.  "As  soon  as  it  gets  known  how  rich  the  prize 
is,  it  will  excite  the  cupidity  of  every  one  in  the  settle- 
ment." 

So  he  prepared  to  camp  there  for  the  night ;  but  before 
night  came  he  dug,  and  sifted,  and  sifted  and  dug  until 
he  had  got  several  ounces  of  the  precious  metal,  and 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  !  7  7 

gathering  them  all  together,  he  held  his  treasure  in  his 
open  palms,  groaning  in  ecstasy  over  it. 

"Made  for  life,"  he  kept  muttering  to  himself,  "for 
life,  for  life.  Mole,  Mole,  you're  a  lucky  old  dog." 

And  so  mumbling  he  dropped  into  a  feverish  sleep ; 
but  trouble  was  already  looming  in  the  distance. 

Trouble  which  the  old  gentleman  had  never  contem- 
plated. Trouble  in  the  shape  of  his  old  tormentors. 

But  before  we  can  let  the  reader  enjoy  further  Mr. 
Mole's  perplexities  we  must  return  to  Hilda. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

AN  ALARM THE  BUSHRANGER'S  RESOLVE — THE  MARCH  TO  BATTLE 

BRAVE  LITTLE  TINKER  LEFT   ON  GUARD — "AIN'T    I  WICKED 

JEST  ?  "  A  FIGHT. 

THE  punishment  of  the  Italian  ruffian  was  interrupted 
by  a  sudden  alarm. 

Bigamini,  who  had  fallen  naturally  into  his  old  and 
congenial  character  of  spy,  came  flying  up  to  Captain 
Morgan  with  the  most  startling  intelligence. 

"There's  a  whole  army  upon  the  march,  Capt'in 
Morgan,"  he  said,  in  considerable  excitement. 

"An  army  of  what  ?  "  demanded  the  bushranger  chief, 
with  coolness. 

"Enemies,"  replied  the  spy;  "all  the  settlement,  I 
should  say." 

•  In  one  party  ? " 
'  No  ;  several. " 
'  Who  leads  ? " 

'  Harkaway  is  leading  one  of  the  parties." 
'  And  the  other  ? " 

1  Harvey  one  and  that  big  Jefferson,  the  American,  the 
other,"  was  the  reply. 
Morgan  frowned. 

"  They  mean  business,  apparently,"  he  said. 
"  Precious  ugly  business  too,  capt'in,"  said  the  cockney 
spy  :   "s'elp  me  Robert." 
Morrran  smiled. 


1 78  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"Ah,  well,  I  dare  say  we  shall  be  ready  for  them — 
they  don't  know  Captain  Morgan  yet." 

"Ah,  Capt'in  Morgan,"  said  Bigamini,  "if  you  would 
take  a  numble  cove's  advice,  you'd  let  that  lovely  gal 

go-" 

"  What !  "  thundered  the  bushranger  chief,  turning  upon 

the  spy  as  if  he  would  annihilate  him,  "do  you  dare  to 
offer  your  counsel  ? " 

'  I  only " 

Silence  ! " 
'Beg  parding." 
:  Silence." 
'Yes,  sir." 
Go  ! " 
Yes,  sir." 

And  precious  glad  of  the  permission,  the  spy  scrambled 
out  of  the  fierce  chiefs  presence. 

Morgan  walked  up  and  down  in  thought  for  some  little 
time. 

"They  must  not  get  as  far  as  this,  at  any  rate,"  he 
muttered  to  himself;  "no,  no;  I  must  meet  them  half- 
way and  fight  them.  They  shall  have  a  taste  of  bush- 
fighting,  and  see  how  they  like  it. 

"Yes,  yes,  Harkaway,  in  Captain  Morgan  you  will 
find  no  Greek  or  Italian  coward  to  fight  with,  but  an 
Englishman  bold  as  yourself." 

Then  turning  sharply  round,  Morgan  called  the  black 
boy. 

"Yes,  Cap'en  Morgan,"  answered  Tinker,  bounding 
forward. 

"There's  going  to  be  a  fight,  Tinker,"  said  Morgan. 

"Larks  !  "  cried  the  black  boy,  capering  about ;  "  gal- 
lopshus  larks.  Tinker  go  and  put  on  his  war-paint." 

"  No,  no  ;  you'll  have  to  stay  on  guard  here." 

"Where?"  demanded  the  boy  apparently  crestfallen 
and  disappointed. 

"Here,  to  mind  Mrs.  Harvey.  You  shall  have  some 
of  the  fighting  a  little  later  on. " 

"  Bery  good,  sar,"  returned  Tinker,  "I  mind  de  gal, 
sar ;  nobody  take  away  your  gal  away  from  Tinker, 
sar. " 

' '  Treat  her  with  every  respect " 

"Yes,  sar." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TR ALIA.  1 79 

"And  I'll  reward  you  handsomely,  for  you  are  a  fine 
boy. " 

"  Tinker  a  lubly  boy,  sar,"  returned  the  young  nigger, 
proudly;  "splendiferous,  magnificent  critter ;  look  at  him 
noble  self,  sar." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  so  much  about  your  looks,"  re- 
turned the  brushranger  chief,  "but  you  are  faithful  to 
those  you  like,  and  those  you  serve." 

Tinker's  eyes  twinkled  strangely  as  he  replied — 

"Yes,  sar,  Tinker  bery  faithful,  sar.  So  you  find, 
sar.  Awful  splendid  faithful  critter,  sar,  to  those  he 
lubs. " 

"Well,  now  I'm  off,  that's  enough  for  you.  Look  well 
after  the  lady." 

' '  Yes,  sar. " 

"  And  look  to  me  for  your  reward,"  said  Morgan. 

"Yes,  sar,  Tinker  do  him  duty,  sar." 

And  with  a  final  word  of  admonition,  the  leader  of  the 
lawless  bushrangers  started  off  to  collect  his  men,  and 
march  on  to  meet  the  advancing  army  from  Harkaway 
settlement. 


"Oh,  yes,"  said  Tinker,  "I'll  mind  de  gal;  Missie 
Harvey  bery  safe  wid  dis  chile — yah,  yah  !  Poor  Cap'en 
Morgan — yah,  yah,  yah  !  Golly  !  ain't  I  thunderin'  can- 
tank'rous  wicked  jest — yah,  yah  !  " 

And  Tinker  grinned,  looking  intensely  satisfied  at  his 
own  wickedness. 

What  shape  his  wickedness  took  will  soon  be  explained 
to  the  reader. 

Morgan  was  already  on  the  march,  and,  indeed,  had 
progressed  some  considerable  distance,  when  a  loud 
warning  call  behind  them  attracted  attention. 

"  Hullo  !  "  exclaimed  the  bushranger,  "look  round." 

"There's  someone  coming,"  said  one  of  the  men. 

A  man,  bounding  along  at  a  tremendous  pace,  now  ap- 
peared in  sight. 

"  Stop,  stop  !  "  he  shouted  out  as  he  ran. 

"Why,  it's  that  idiot,  Bigamini,"  said  Captain  Mor- 
gan. 

He  was  right. 

Bigamini  bounded  up  to  the  party  of  bushrangers,  out 


1 80  JA  CK  HA  RKA  WAY  A  ND  HIS  SOX'S 

of  breath,  and  apparently  in  a  state  of  intense  excitement 
and  alarm. 

' '  What  on  earth  ails  you  ?  "  demanded  Captain  Morgan, 
as  Bigamini  came  up. 

"  Sich  a  blessid  patter  I've  had  of  it,"  he  gasped,  "sich 
a  game  of  'are  an'  'ounds,  blowed  if  I've  got  no  wind 
left  to  speak  of." 

"What's  the  matter  now  ?  "  demanded  the  bushranger 
chief.      "  Speak  quickly." 
'She's  gone." 
'  Gone  ? " 
Bolted ! " 
'  Who  has  gone  ? " 
'The  gal— Mrs.   Harvey." 

'  But  where's  the  boy,  Tinker  ?  "  cried  Morgan,  clutch- 
ing hold  of  Bigamini. 

"Bolted,  likewise,"  said  the  spy;  "absquatulated, 
namassed,  sloped." 

Morgan  was  fairly  staggered  at  this  news. 

"  I'll  not  believe  it !  "  he  exclaimed ;  "  you're  deceiving 
me.  Beware  how  you  trifle  with  me." 

He  seized  Bigamini  fiercely  by  the  throat. 

"  I  say  now,  capt'in,  drop  it,"  remonstrated  the  luck- 
less spy.  "You  can't  get  her  back  by  stoppin' the  hair 
in  my  wisen." 

Morgan  threw  him  heavily  away,  and  he  fell. 

"Why  didn't  you  intercept  them  ?  "  he  said. 

"'Cos  why?"  answered  Bigamini.  "I  was  a-listening 
behind  the  trees,  and  I  heerd  the  black  kid  talk  about 
which  way  they  was  going  as  soon  as  you  were  fairly  out 
of  the  way.  Then  says  I  to  myself,  if  I  stops  'em  now, 
they'll  diddle  me  afterwards  ;  the  best  course  is  to  con- 
sult the  capt'in  before  he  gets  too  far  off " 

"And  while  you  are  here ? " 

"They've  bolted." 

"Fool!  " 

"Not  quite  a  fool  neither,  Capt'in  Morgan,  'cos 
I  know  exact  the  way  as  they  have  took,  'cos  why  ? — I 
heerd  'em  map  out  all  their  journey  as  nice  as  nine- 
pence.  " 

"And  you  think  you  could  overtake  them?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Are  you  armed  ? " 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  rfz 

"I've  got  my  barkers,"  replied  Bigamini,  producing  his 
pistols. 

"Off  with  you  then,"  said  the  bushranger,  "overtake 
them,  or  never  show  up  here  again." 

"Yes,  capt'in." 

"Shoot  the  boy." 

"I  will,  with  pleasure,  capt'in." 

"And  bring  back  the  lady.  Respect  her,  or  you  will 
have  to  answer  to  me." 

"  Never  fear,  capt'in." 

"  Mind,  bring  her  back,  or  don't  show  your  face  to  me 
again. " 

"  I'll  bring  her  back,  and  give  Tinker  a  shot  through 
his  impish  head,"  said  Bigamini,  earnestly. 

And  off  he  ran. 

"The  capt'in  ain't  to  say  chi'ce  in  his  lingo,"  said  the 
spy.  ' '  In  fact,  he's  so  very  insultin'  at  times  as  he  gets 
my  monkey  reg'lar  up.  Talking  of  monkeys,  I  wonder 
whether  that  young  monkey  Tinker  will  show  fight  ? " 

It  is  rather  odd  that  his  soliloquy  should  so  run  upon 
the  word  monkey. 

And  why  ? 

Read  on,  and  you  will  see. 


Yes. 

It  was  true. 

Tinker  had  run  away  with  the  prisoner  he  had  been 
left  to  guard. 

It  was  also  true,  unfortunately,  that  while  they  were 
concerting  their  plans,  and  mapping  out  the  route  back  to 
the  settlement,  Bigamini  the  spy  was  lurking  in  ambush 
and  listening  to  what  was  being  said. 

Now  Tinker  knew  every  inch  of  the  ground,  so  to 
speak. 

Trees,  stones,  and  other  signs,  which  to  a  stranger 
would  have  passed  unnoticed,  served  him  as  landmarks 
in  his  progress. 

Part  of  the  country  which  they  had  to  traverse  was  flat 
and  unmarked  by  any  special  features. 

But  after  an  hour's  hard  walk,  or,  perhaps,  we  should 
more  properly  say  run,  for  they  kept  upon  the  trot  for  the 
most  part  of  the  journey,  the  ground  grew  more  uneven, 


182  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

and  assumed  an  appearance  of  hill  and  vale,  that  prom- 
ised well  for  Hilda's  desires. 

And  frequently  they  came  in  sight  of  trees. 

This  was  regarded  as  a  piece  of  good  fortune  by  both 
of  them. 

They  could  rest  here  for  awhile  in  safety. 

And  rest  they  did,  for  they  were  both  fatigued  with  their 
exertions. 

"I  can  scarcely  put  one  foot  before  the  other  now,  my 
good  Tinker,"  said  Mrs.  Harvey. 

"Awful  great  big  sorry  for  dat,  Missie  Harvey,"  said 
the  black  boy,  "  'cos  Tinker  ain't  big  enough  to  carry 
you  home." 

Hilda  smiled. 

"No,  Tinker,  I  should  be  too  big  a  baby  for  you,  I 
fear." 

"You  not  a  baby  at  all,  Missie  Harvey,"  said  Tinker, 
proudly;  "you  bery  bold  lady,  bery  lubly  lady,  bery 
brave  lady." 

She  smiled  again. 

"Not  altogether  a  coward,  yet  not  brave." 

She  concluded  with  a  faint  scream. 

"What's  that?" 

"Which?" 

"  Look  ! " 

She  pointed  to  the  branch  of  one  of  the  nearest  trees, 
where  a  fantastic-looking  object  squatted  upon  a  branch^ 
looking  down  upon  them. 

A  huge  monkey. 

There  he  sat  chewing  some  thing  that  he  had  found,  and 
looking  as  wise  as  an  owl. 

Tinker  made  a  step  or  two  forward  to  inspect  the 
strange  object  closer. 

"Don't  leave  me,  Tinker,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Harvey; 
"stay  close  by  me." 

"All  right,  Missie  Harvey;  don't  you  know  dat  re- 
markable gollopshus  individdle  ?  " 

"Know  him  ;  no." 

"Why,  it  is  Nero." 

Nero — for  it  was  our  old  friend — grinned,  and  slid  down 
from  his  perch. 

"  Good  Nero,"  said  Hilda  ;  "  I  am  so  glad  it  is  a  friend  ; 
shake  hands. " 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  183 

Nero  put  out  his  paw. 

He  wagged  his  head  in  his  well-known  old-fashioned 
way,  and  grinned  at  them  both,  dividing  his  attentions  and 
his  favours  fairly  between  them. 

"How  are  all  at  home ?  "  said  Mrs.  Harvey  smilingly. 

Nero  caught  a  flea  by  way  of  answering  this. 

"Oh,  Nero,  Nero,  why  can't  you  talk?  You  could 
make  me  feel  so  happy,  or  perhaps  not.  Perhaps  you  would 
have  bad  news  to  tell  me.  Well,  well  you  have  none  at 
all;  'no  news  is  good  news,'  we  have  always  heard. 
Nero ! " 

This  last  mention  of  the  monkey's  name  was  caused 
by  his  sudden  rushing  off. 

Back  he  flew  to  his  tree,  and  began  tearing  furiously 
at  one  of  the  smaller  branches. 

"Nero  !" 

"  Come  back,  sar." 

Nero  took  no  heed  of  Mrs.  Harvey  nor  of  Tinker. 

Evidently  there  was  some  thing  wrong  with  him. 

What  could  it  be  ? 

They  had  not  long  to  wait  to  find  out,  for  while  their 
attention  was  thus  absorbed  by  the  wild  antics  of  the 
monkey,  a  voice  exclaimed — 

"  Got  you  at  last,  have  I  ? " 

Hilda  turned  with  a  half-stifled  scream. 

There,  not  ten  feet  from  where  she  stood,  was  a  man, 
presenting  a  pair  of  pistols  at  them. 

One  at  herself. 

The  other  at  Tinker. 

"Oh!" 

"Now,  marm,"  said  this  man,  "back  you  go,  or  I'll 
shoot  you,  damme  !  " 

"  Ugly  beast !  "  cried  Tinker. 

But  he  kept  at  a  respectful  distance  from  the  threaten- 
ing pistol. 

The  reader  has,  of  course,  divined  who  this  was. 

Bigamini. 

Who  could  it  be  but  the  villanous  spy  ? 

When  he  boasted  that — to  quote  his  own  peculiar  idiom 
— he  ran  like  a  blooming  deer,  his  brag  was  not  altogether 
devoid  of  foundation. 

He  had  precious  soon  caught  them  up,  when  we  take 
into  consideration  the  long  start  they  had  got  of  him. 


JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOWS 

"Come  along,  my  dainty  girl,"  said  he  to  Hilda  ;  "off 
with  you." 

"Never,"  returned  Hilda,  proudly  ;  "I'll  die  first." 

"Now,  don't  you  aggrawate  a  poor  devil,"  said 
Bigamini,  "or  blest  if  you  mayn't  die,  and  no  error 
about  it." 

"Begone,  and  let  us  proceed  on  our  way,"  said  Hilda, 
loftily.  "If  you  attempt  to  molest  me  further  you  will 
suffer  ;  I  have  a  husband. " 

"  I  know  Dick  Harvey  very  well,"  returned  Bigamini 
insolently  ;  "we're  old  pals,  in  fact." 

"Then  you  know  that  Richard  Harvey  is  not  a  man  to 
be  trifled  with ;  you  are  safe  only  at  a  distance." 

"Oh,  I'll  keep  a  long  way  off  him,  with  you;  so  on 
you  come." 

"  Begone ! " 

"You  defy  me?" 

"I  do." 

"You  beast,  put  down  dat  cantank'rous,  nasty,  dam 
make-fire,"  said  Tinker  to  the  spy. 

"If  you  ain't  off  double  quick,  you  black  devil,  I'll 
shoot  you.  I  got  orders  for  it. " 

"Yah,  yah  !  "  jeered  Tinker,  "you  big  drunk,  can't  aim 
straight — yah,  yah  !  " 

"Can't  I  ?"  retorted  Bigamini ;  "take  that." 

And  he  let  fly. 

Hilda  gave  a  scream  as  Tinker  dropped  and  rolled  over 
and  over  upon  the  hard  ground. 

Bigamini  ran  up  to  finish  him.  off,  when  strangely 
enough,  Tinker,  in  his  struggles,  rolled  between  the  spy's 
legs,  and  tripped  him  up. 

And  they  both  rolled  upon  the  ground  together. 

In  fact,  they  were  in  half  a  jiffey  so  thoroughly  mixed 
up,  that  the  difficulty  was  to  distinguish  which  was 
which. 

Tinker's  oily  skin  offered  no  hold  to  his  adversary. 

After  a  momentary  scramble,  up  Tinker  got,  and 
snatched  up  the  pistol  that  was  yet  undischarged  from 
the  ground. 

Bigamini  saw  how  matters  were,  and  ducking  to  avoid 
the  fire,  in  case  Tinker  should  be  about  to  shoot,  he  leapt 
upon  him. 

Hilda  now  flew  to  Tinker's  assistance. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  1 85 

But  her  aid  was  not  needed,  for  help  came  from  a  most 
unexpected  quarter. 

Some  thing  whizzed  through  the  air,  and  came  down 
with  a  mighty  thwack  upon  poor  Bigamini's  sconce. 

Down  he  dropped. 

"Oh,  oh!"  he  yelled.  "I'm  done  for.  Murder — 
oh  ! " 

"  His  unexpected  assailant  was  the  monkey,  Nero. 

Tinker  stepped  back,  pistol  in  hand,  and  left  Bigamini 
and  Nero  to  have  it  out  together. 

Nero's  gentle  nature  vanished  altogether,  and  dropping 
the  branch  of  the  tree  which  he  had  torn  off  for  a  cudgel, 
he  fell  on  the  spy. 

They  closed. 

Now,  no  sooner  did  Bigamini  see  that  big,  hairy  face 
close  to  his,  and  the  fierce  eyes  gleaming  into  his  own, 
than  fear  filled  his  craven  soul,  for  he  had  quite  forgotten 
the  existence  of  the  great  monkey. 

"Oh,  the  devil  !  I'm  in  the  clutch  of  the  Evil  One  at 
last,"  he  groaned. 

Still  he  fought. 

Yet  not  with  the  vigour  and  fierce  determination  he 
would  otherwise  have  shown. 

Nero  tore  at  him  with  the  greatest  ferocity,  and  buried 
his  claws  in  the  wretched  man's  flesh. 

So  desperate  was  the  battle  that  Bigamini  was  speedily 
blinded  with  his  own  blood. 

And  all  the  time,  Hilda  and  Tinker  stood  looking  on. 

Hilda  horrified,  fear-stricken,  at  the  spectacle. 

Tinker  laughing. 

Yes,  the  black  boy  enjoyed  it  mightily. 

"  Nero,  Nero  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Harvey. 

But  Nero's  blood  was  up. 

He  paid  no  heed. 

"  Drag  him  away,  Tinker,"  she  implored ;  "he  will  kill 
that  wretched  man." 

"Yah,  yah!" 

"Do  you  hear? " 

"Yes,  Missie  Harvey,  deblish  fine  dat,  de  ugly  feller 
no  kill  me  den.  Yah,  yah!  gib  it  him,  Nero.  Go 
it,  Nero  !  him  dam  bad  man." 

Nero  wanted  no  encouraging  to  this  end.  Bigamini  s 
struggles  grew  fainter. 


1 86  JA CK  HARKA WAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

He  battled  feebly,  instinctively,  while  the  monkey  was 
as  fresh  and  as  vigorous  as  ever. 

He  fastened  at  length  upon  the  wretched  spy's  throat, 
and  there  he  held  him  to  the  bitter  end. 

Bigamini  fought  no  longer  now. 

His  head  fell  back. 

His  arms  hung  helplessly  at  his  side. 

His  eyes  were  starting  from  their  sockets.  His  tongue 
protruded. 

A  ghastly,  sickly,  spectacle. 

Bigamini  the  murderer,  convict,  and  spy,  was  dead  ! 

"Come  away,  Tinker,"  exclaimed  Hilda,  in  accents  of 
mingled  awe  and  horror  ;  "he  has  killed  him." 

' '  Yah,  yah  !  "  grinned  Tinker.  "  Immense,  big,  splen- 
did fellow,  Nero.  Me  lub  Nero  ;  him  better  man  dan  that 
wicked  spy." 

They  turned  away. 

And  happily  they  reached  the  settlement  without  any 
further  molestation. 

And  now  you  understand  why  we  remarked  upon  the 
singular  chance  of  Bigamini  using  the  word  monkey 
repeatedly  in  his  memorable  soliloquy,  after  starting  upon 
this  pursuit,  destined  to  prove  fatal  to  him. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

ANXIETIES — HOPES  AND    FEARS — A  VISIT  TO    MR.    MOLE'S    MINE 

WARNINGS  OF  DANGER FOREWARNED,   FOREARMED. 

WHEN  Hilda  and  Tinker  reached  the  settlement,  they 
found  that  there  were  no  tidings  whatever  of  Harvey  or 
of  Harkaway — nor,  indeed,  of  any  of  the  party  who  had 
gone  in  pursuit  of  her. 

This  was  a  sad  result,  indeed,  after  her  happy  escape 
from  peril. 

"  There  is  no  fear,  mamma,"  said  little  Emily,  who,  it 
need  not  be  said,  was  overjoyed  to  see  her  mother  again, 
"for  they  are  so  strong  and  so  brave.  Uncle  Harkaway 
is  with  papa  and  Mr.  Jefferson  and  numbers  of  our  men, 
all  armed,  and  brave  as  can  be." 

"I  can't  say  that  I  fear,"  answered  Hilda,    "for,  to- 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  187 

gather,  I  don't  believe  that  there  are  many  that  could  op- 
pose your  father  and  brave  Jack  Harkaway.  Harkaway  !  " 
she  added;  "why,  there  is  music  in  the  very  name." 

And  so  there  was. 

Traitors  trembled  at  the  sound,  and  true  men  grew 
enthusiastic  in  the  praises  of  old  Jack. 

"  Dad  is  safe  enough,"  said  young  Jack,  repeatedly. 

This  was  not  only  to  reassure  his  mother  and  their 
friends  generally,  but  also  to  make  himself  easy  in  his 
mind,  which  he  was  very  far  from  being  at  present. 

Indeed,  he  had  very  serious  doubts  of  it. 

Anxiety  was  upon  every  face  in  the  settlement. 

At  length  they  came  to  the  resolve  to  send  out  a  man 
in  search  of  the  absent  friends. 

One  of  their  men  volunteered  for  this  service,  and  he 
was  duly  armed  and  furnished  with  provisions  of  the 
most  portable  character. 

This  done,  they  grew  more  easy  in  their  minds. 

"Another  day,"  said  Mrs.  Harkaway,  with  a  sigh 
of  relief,  "  and  we  shall  certainly  have  them  with  us 

again." 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

Another  day  passed. 

Yet  no  tidings. 

Two  days  more,  and  three  men  were  started  off  in  an- 
other direction. 

A  full  code  of  signals  was  arranged  with  them,  and  every 
possible  precaution  was  taken. 

And  this  tended  considerably  to  restore  confidence  in 

all  their  minds. 

***** 

"  Well,"  said  Harry  Girdwood,  "  I  don't  see  the  fun 
in  making  ourselves  and  everybody  else  wretched." 

"  Nor  I." 

"Nor  dis  chile!"  said  Tinker,  with  a  precious  long 
face  ;  "  I'se  cantank'rous,  dam  miserable  !  " 

"  Let's  go  to  the  gold  mine,  and  see  how  old  Mole  is 
getting  on. " 

"Good!" 

Off  they  started,  accompanied  by  Tinker. 

Now  Tinker's  face  lit  up  immediately,  for  when  it  was 
a  question  of  visiting  the  old  gentleman,  the  young  darkey 
gave  a  pretty  shrewd  guess  that  it  meant  fun. 


1 88  /A  CK  HA  RKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

Fun  or  mischief — and  they  were  much  the  same  to 
Tinker. 

Now  they  found  Mr.  Mole  all  alone,  hard  at  it,  digging 
away  for  bare  life  at  his  mine. 

The  new  mine-owner  had  certain  difficulties  to  labour 
against,  but  he  fought  them  manfully. 

The  pick  he  could  ply  with  tolerable  skill,  and  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  force. 

But  what  baffled  him,  at  first,  was  the  spade. 

To  drive  it  well  into  the  earth,  he  had,  of  course,  to 
press  it  hard  with  his  timbertoe,  and  this  wanted  a  deal 
of  dodging. 

He  would  lunge  furiously  at  the  edge  of  his  shovel, 
and  miss  it  five  or  six  times  in  succession,  to  the  infinite 
amusement  of  our  fun-loving  boys. 

"  If  your  mine  doesn't  turn  up  trumps,  sir,"  said  young; 
Jack,  with  a  serious  air  of  interest,  "  you  could  yet  turu 
your  ground  to  good  account. " 

Mr.  Mole  fidgeted  nervously  at  this. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ? " 

"  Only  in  case  of  accidents,  sir,"  said  young  Jack. 

"  What  then?" 

"  You  could  cultivate  it  wonderfully  well." 

Mr.  Mole  did  not  quite  understand  the  allusion. 

"  You  possess  great  natural  advantages  for  gardenings 
sir ;  you  understand  ?  " 

"  No  ;  that's  it,  my  dear  boy — I  don't  understand." 

"  Why,  look  how  you  could  dibble  in  your  cabbage 
plants  or  potatoes,  for  instance,"  said  Harkaway,  junior, 
as  he  walked  of£ 

Sold  ngain  ! 

Mr.  Mole  nearly  choked  with  indignation. 

But  it  was  all  thrown  away,  for  young  Jack  was  already 

out  of  hearing, 

****** 

Mr.  Mole  had  profited  by  this  allusion  to  his  infirmity. 

Amongst  the  mechanics  in  the  settlement  was  a  very 
skilful  wood-carver,  and  Mr.  Mole  employed  this  man  to 
make  him  a  pair  of  wooden  feet,  like  lasts  upon  which 
the  boots  and  shoes  are  made. 

These  were  so  constructed  as  to  screw  firmly  on  to  his 
wooden  extremities. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRAL1A.  189 

And  thus  he  vanquished  the  difficulty  of  digging  with 
the  spade. 

'  •  Well,  sir, "  said  Harry  Girdwood,  as  they  came  up, 
• '  how  do  you  progress  ?  " 

"  Fairly,  my  boy,  fairly,"  responded  Mr.  Mole,  putting 
on  a  cheerful  air,  which  was  really  not  warranted  by  the 
amount  of  success  he  had  met  with. 

'•'  Many  nuggets  ?  " 

Mr.  Mole  looked  wonders. 

If  looks  could  be  interpreted,  Mr.  Mole  certainly  meant 
to  insinuate  a  mountain  of  gold. 

"  I'm  glad  it  has  turned  out  so  well,"  said  Harry  Gird- 
wood. 

"  Especially  as  we  recommended  it,  Harry,"  said  young 
Jack. 

' '  You  find  lots  o'  brass,  old  Massa  Mole  ?  "  said  Tinker. 

Harry  and  young  Jack  felt  just  a  bit  uneasy  at  this 
familiar  term  for  gold. 

But  Mr.  Mole  took  it  very  good-naturedly. 

"Lots,"  he  replied  with  a  smile;  "in  fact — he,  he! 
— excuse  my  little  jokes — I  shall  have  as  much  brass  as 
you  three  put  together — he,  he  !  " 

"Ha,  ah,  ah  1 "  laughed  Harry  Girdwood,  nudging 
Jack. 

And  then  they  laughed  all  together. 

Isaac  Mole  thought,  in  his  innocence,  that  they  were 
laughing  with  him,  not  at  him. 

"  I  must  tell  you,  sir,"  said  young  Jack,  with  his  most 
respectful  manner,  "that  we  had  an  object  in  coming 
here. " 

"Indeed!" 

"Yes,  sir.'' 

"What  is  it?" 

"  The  news  of  your  wonderful  mine  has  got  all  over 
the  country,  Mr.  Mole,"  said  young  Jack. 

"  Gossiping  fools,  to  talk  of  it ;  it  might  do  no  end  of 
mischief." 

"  It  has,  sir,"  said  Jack,  seriously. 

"  Never  !" 

"  Oh,  indeed  it  has  ;  in  point  of  fact,  sir,  we  have  only 
now  come  to  see  if  you  fear  molestation  !  " 

"  Molestation — where  ? — what — from  whom  ?  " 

"  Morgan." 


190  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

At  the  mention  of  the  notorious  bushranger's  name,  Mr. 
Mole  jumped  up  like  a  parched  pea  in  a  fire-shovel. 

' '  Captain  Morgan  ? " 

"  Yes,  a  fact,  sir." 

"  Why,  how  the  deuce  can  he " 

A  disagreeable  feeling  possessed  him,  and  he  could  not 
finish  his  sentence. 

"The  danger,  sir,"  said  young  Jack,  deliberately, 
"  from  what  I  have  heard,  does  not  proceed  from  Mor- 
gan, directly." 

"No?" 

"  No,  sir  ;  for,  from  information  I  have  received " 

"  It  sounds  just  like  Scotland  Yard,"  said  Mr.  Mole. 

"  Yes,  it  does  ;  unfortunately,  you  haven't  Scotland 
Yard  here  to  help  you." 

Young  Jack's  serious  air  and  subdued  manner  duly  im- 
pressed Mr.  Mole. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  he  said,  "  you  surely  don't  mean  to 
say " 

"  Don't  make  yourself  uneasy,  sir;  but  the  bushrangers 
have — so  I  have  heard — employed  a  gang  of  the  aborig- 
ines to  drop  down  upon  you. " 

"What!" 

"  A  fact,  sir  ;  and  so  we  came  on  to  see  if  we  could  ren- 
der any  assistance.  We  didn't  run  very  hard,  for  we  knew 
that  you  were  a  match  for  a  good  many  niggers,  no 
matter  what  country  they  came  from. " 

Mr.  Mole  at  this  pulled  up  his  shirt-collar,  and  shot  out 
his  cuffs,  with  a  pardonable  gesture  of  pride. 

"  Rather ! " 

"And  we  were  doubtful,"  said  Harry  Girdwood, 
"  whether  you  would  accept  our  assistance  ?  " 

"  I'm  very  grateful  for  your  offer,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  with 
dignity  ;  "  but  I  rather  flatter  myself  that  I  am  more  than 
a  match  for  a  good  mob  of  niggers. " 

"  Of  course,  sir." 

"  It  is  not  known  to  any  of  you  how  I  tackled  a  whole 
tribe  of  North  American  Indians  once." 

"  I  remember  some  thing  of  it,  sir,"  said  our  youthful 
hero  ;  "  but  I  forget  the  details." 

"You  would,  Jack,  you  would,"  said  Mr.  Mole;  "it 
was  just  before  you  were  born,  Jack." 

"  It  was,  sir." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  I9I 

"  I'll  tell  you,  then,"  said  the  inventive  Mole.  "  I  was 
asleep  in  our  log-house,  alone — the  rest  of  our  party  was 
away — when  I  was  aroused  by  the  whistle  of  the  savages. 
But  I  didn't  make  any  fuss  at  all. 

"  No  use." 

"  None,  "said  Harry,  pretending  to  be  deeply  interested. 

"  No  ;  so  I  got  up,  and  got  into  the  loft,  with  my  rifle. 
On  they  came,  yelling  discordantly.  I  distinguished  the 
chief  by  his  eagle-plume,  and,  by  gad,  I  potted  him  !  " 

"  You  talk  of  an  Indian  chief,  sir,  as  if  he  were  a 
bloater. " 

' '  Or  shrimps. " 

"Well,  then,  my  dear  boys,  I  reloaded,  and  blazed 
away  again  into  the  thick  of  them." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Then,  when  I  had  laid  seven  of  them  low,  out  I 
rushed,  and  made  an  awful  row.  '  Come  on,  the  rest  of 
you  ! '  I  cried,  as  if  there  were  hundreds  behind  me.  I 
dashed  at  'em,  and,  by  the  living  jingo,  I  scalped  seven- 
and-twenty  before  you  could  wink  an  eye." 

"Lor'!  " 

"Oh,  golly,  golly  !  "  cried  Tinker,  evidently  frightened. 

"  Seven-and-twenty,  as  I  am  a  sinner  !  "  said  Mr.  Mole. 

"Dear,  dear  ! " 

"The  other  fifty  fled  as  if  the  old  gentleman  had  been 
after  them,  and — would  you  believe  it,  dear  boys " 

"No,  we  shouldn't,"  said  Harry,  sotto  voce. 

"They  actually  left  me  alone,  single-handed,  master  of 
the  field  !  " 

"  That's  as  true  as  any  of  Mr.  Mole's  warlike  exploits," 
said  young  Jack,  tipping  the  wink  to  Harry. 

"It  never  got  very  public,"  suggested  Harry. 

"No,  publicity  is  not  my  desire,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  with 
a  lofty  wave  of  the  hand,  "  it  never  was." 

"'On  their  own  merits  modest  men  are  dumb,'"  quoted 
Jack. 

"Precisely." 

"Had  it  only  become  generally  known,"  said  Harry 
Girdwood,  seriously,  "Mr.  Mole  would  have  been  put  up 
as  a  candidate  for  the  presidency." 

"Not  only  put  up,"  said  young  Jack,  piling  it  on  stiffly 
now.  "but  returned,  for  a  dead  certainty." 

"Oh,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  "I  am  not  vain  or  ambitious  ; 


192  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

if  I  were,  there  is  no  doubt  but  that  I  could  have    been 
elected." 

"Your  modesty,  Mr.  Mole,  is  too  much,"  said  young: 
Jack. 

"Well,  then,  I  suppose,  sir,"  said  Harry,  "our  assist- 
ance, in  case  the  niggers  come  down  on  you,  would  be 
of  no  good  ?  " 

"Perhaps  it  might,"  returned  the  old  gentleman,  with 
a  simper  of  vanity. 

"Well,  then,  it  only  remains  for  us  to  go  ;  we'll  leave 
our  pistols  first,  for  we  brought  them  purposely." 

"That's  very  kind  of  you,  Harry,"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man ;  "  but  I  have  no  powder  and  shot." 

"They  are  already  loaded,  sir." 

He  winked  at  Jack. 

"But  one  charge  might  not  be  enough,"  said  Mr.  Mole. 

"We  have  no  more  ammunition  to  leave  you,  sir. " 

They  had  particular  reasons  for  not  leaving  powder 
and  shot  in  Mole's  clutches. 

You  will  understand  this  presently. 

"But  you  are  well  loaded,"  said  young  Jack;  "and, 
with  four  pistols,  you  will  be  able  to  scatter  a  whole  tribe 
of  savages." 

"Rather!" 

"You  look  awful  cantankerous  fierce,  sar;  look,  sar,  as 
though  you  eat  up  dozen  niggers,"  said  Tinker,  pretend- 
ing to  tremble. 

"I  don't  think  they  will  venture  too  near  me,"  said 
Mole. 

"  Look  out  for  the  night,  sir,"  said  Harry  Girdwood. 

"  Don't  close  your  eyes. " 

"I  always  sleep  with  the  left  one  open,"  chuckled 
Mole. 

So  off  went  the  boys. 


ADVENTURES  IN  A  US  TR  ALIA. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

AWFUL  ENCOUNTER  BETWEEN  MR.  MOLE    AND   THE    SAVAGES THE 

MYSTERIES  OF  THEIR  NATIVE   TONGUE. 

MR.  MOLE  chuckled  quietly  as  they  disappeared. 
"  I  don't  think  that  the  niggers  would  relish  about  with 
Isaac  Mole,"  he  said,  stoutly. 

"  The  rough  old  commodore, 
The  tough  old  commodore." 
he  warbled. 

"Perhaps,"  he  said  to  himself,  his  expression  losing 
some  thing  of  its  mirthful  attribute,  "perhaps  it  would  be 
better  if  they  came  in  the  day.  It  is  difficult  to  distin- 
guish a  dark  man  on  a  dark  night,  and  a  nigger  and  night 
are  much  the  same  colour,  and  I  hope  they  won't  come 
in  very  great  force,  ahem  ! 

"Confound  those  beasts.  I  wish  they  would  mind 
their  own  business  instead  of  worrying  about  my  dig- 
gings. And  niggers  are  such  very  low-minded  persons  ; 
they're  not  satisfied  with  getting  the  upper  hand,  they 
have  such  objectionable  ways  of  gouging  and  scalping  ; 
that's  what  I  have  to  complain  of  always." 

He  looked  up  at  the  setting  sun,  and  then  he  looked  at 
the  settlement  some  distance  away. 

Ugh! 

Why  did  he  refuse  the  boys'  assistance  ? 

"  I  am  such  a  rash,  headstrong  fool,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "Pluck  is  all  very  well  in  its  way,  but  really  a 
man  with  a  wife  and  family  like  me,  ahem  ought  to  pay 
some  respect  to  his  skin.  But  rash  daring  was  always 
my  weakness ;  I  am  like  some  old  war-horse,  I  can't 
smell  fighting  without  snorting  to  be  in  it. 

"  Lord  ha'  mercy  !  what's  that?  " 

A  long  shrill  note,  a  profound  too-oo-woo.  A  sort  of 
burlesque  of  the  owl,  and  unmistakably  rendered  by  a 
human  throat.  Mr.  Mole  had  heard  such  a  cry  long 
years  before. 

Too  well  did  he  remember  when,  where,  and  under 
what  dreadful  circumstances. 

It  was  in  the  Island  of  Limbi. 
13 


194  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

The  war-cry  of  the  savages. 

Horrible  reminiscence,  this,  all  things  considered. 

' '  Too-y-woo  !  " 

' '  There  it  is  again.  Oh,  Lord  !  oh,  Lord  !  "  exclaimed 
Mole,  starting  up  aghast. 

He  had  been  hoping  that  he  was  deceived  at  first. 

Now  there  could  be  no  mistake  about  it. 

In  his  little  tent  he  kept  a  bugle  with  which  he  was 
wont  to  signal  to  Monday  from  the  settlement  when  he 
was  in  need  of  any  thing. 

So  he  blew  a  sharp  note  upon  this  at  once,  and  waited 
the  answer  in  some  anxiety. 

The  answer  came. 

Monday  was  there,  then,  ready  at  hand  in  case  of 
need. 

"Pheugh!"  * 

What  a  relief ! 

Mr.  Mole  could  not  deceive  himself  now ;  he  was 
really  alarmed. 

He  got  out  his  telescope,  and  eagerly  scanned  the 
country  round. 

Yet  no  signs  of  any  enemy  could  be  perceived. 

"Was  it  my  fancy?"  he  said  to  himself.  "Surely  not, 
no.  Hang  it,  that  would  look  as  if  I  was  frightened,  and 
I  rather  flatter  myself  that  Isaac  Mole  is  just  about  the 
last  man  in  this  part  of  the  world  to  get  frightened." 

He  looked  under  his  blanket  for  some  thing. 

Not  there. 

Where  could  he  have  put  it  ? 

He  routed  out  several  nooks  and  corners  in  his  tent, 
and  finally  produced  from  beneath  a  pile  of  straw  a  small 
stone  bottle  labelled  "whisky." 

"I'm  obliged  to  be  a  little  bit  sly,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"Chloe  is  so  dreadfully  curious;  the  way  she  routs  out 
every  hole  and  corner  of  this  place  is  most  distressing  to 
a  man  of  my  outspoken,  frank,  and  truthful  nature." 

He  poured  out  a  little  into  a  cup,  and  drained  it  off. 

"  Hah  !  "  he  said,  smacking  his  lips  in  a  sort  of  subdued 
ecstasy,  "  that's  something  like." 

It  is  astounding  how  his  spirits  rose  as  the  whisky 
went  down. 

He  grew  valiant  immediately. 

"If  they  don't  muster  too  strong,"  he  said  to  himself, 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  1 95 

"twenty,  perhaps — but  joking  apart,  I  don't  think  I  could 
tackle  more  than  twenty." 

He  got  the  whisky  again. 

' '  Beastly  weak  this  is, "  he  said,  taking  out  the  cork  ; 
"been  well  watered  before  I  got  it.  Awful  thieves  the 
dealers  are.  Why  can't  they  content  themselves  with  an 
honest  profit  ?  Hah  !  " 

He  took  a  suck. 

"Two- thirds  water." 

The  old  gentleman  got  rather  drowsy  soon,  and  put- 
ting his  loaded  pistols  handy,  he  settled  himself  down  on 
his  blankets  to  go  to  sleep. 

"Let  'em  come,  ya-haw,"  he  yawned,  "let'em  come 
— blow  the  lot  to  smithereens — ya-haw — knock  'em  into 
the  middle  of  next  week — damme,  I'd  knock  'em  into  the 
middl<e  of  next  year." 

And  with  similar  bold  resolves,  he  gradually  sank  back, 

and  slept. 

*  #  *  *  *  * 

"  Too-y-whoo ! " 

"  Too-y-whoo-oo  ! " 

"Eh,  what!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Mole,  drowsily;  "come 
in,  my  dear,  don't  knock." 

"Too-y-whoo  !  " 

"What's  that?" 

"Wahoo!" 

Mr.  Mole  sat  bolt  upright,  and  looked  about  him. 

The  alarming  sound  was  repeated  once  more. 

"I  was  dreaming,"  he  said,  "dreaming  that  I  was 
back  in  England  ;  I  wish  I  was." 

"Too-y-whoo." 

"  Good  Heaven  !  what  a  dreadful  row." 

The  awful  sounds  were  close  at  hand  this  time. 

' '  The  savages. " 

Yes,  there  could  be  no  mistake  about  it  now. 

Mr.  Mole  scrambled  for  his  pistols. 

Where  were  they  ? 

He  dived  under  the  blanket,  under  the  straw,  and  all 
over  the  tent. 

All  in  vain.     He  could  not  feel  them. 

The  sounds  of  the  approaching  savages  grew  more  and 
more  distinct. 

"  Good  Heaven  !"  gasped  the  old  gentleman,  "win 


1 96  JA  CK  HARK  A  WAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

a  fool  I  was  to  drink  that  whisky.     Beastly  strong  stuff  ! 
Why,  it  must  be  over  proof." 

There  was  a  wild,  discordant  yell  outside,  and  lo  !  at 
the  entrance  of  the  tent  appeared  three  black  forms. 

Mole  shrank  back. 

Three  horrible  looking  blacks,  all  besmeared  with 
ghastly  pigments. 

Two  carrying  war-clubs. 

The  third  with  a  bow  and  arrow,  ready  to  let  fly  at  the 
unhappy  old  gentleman. 

"Oh-h-h!" 

Mr.  Mole  gave  a  prolonged  groan. 

"  Don't,  for  mercy's  sake  !  " 

The  three  savages  set  up  a  fearful  din,  all  three  speak- 
ing at  once,  producing  the  most  deafening  Babel  of  in- 
comprehensible sounds. 

"Oh,  goodness  me !"  cried  poor  Mole;  "whatever 
will  become  of  me  ?  " 

"Carajo  caramba  !"  yelled  the  nigger  with  the  bow 
and  arrow. 

"Dear  me  !  "  ejaculated  Mole  ;  "  it's  a  Spanish  savage." 

One  of  the  others  carrying  the  war-clubs  advanced  into 
the  tent,  flourishing  his  formidable  weapon. 

"  Keri-chi  ko  kum  kemeri  thar  cum  totnamcortrode  !  " 
yelled  the  savage. 

Mole  shut  his  eyes,  groaning — 

"Oh,  I'm  a  dead  man." 

Never  were  such  sounds  heard  by  mortal  ears. 

His  time  was  come,  he  thought. 

The  other  savage  came  in  with  a  bound. 

"Wik  wak  wallah  !  "  he  shouted. 

"Exactly  so,  my  dear  sir,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  hoping  to 
conciliate  him  ;  "exactly  so,  but  do  take  a  seat  and  rest 
yourself. " 

"Hikey  pikey  ticksey  wick,  sheepsedantators, "  re- 
marked the  savage. 

"Never  should  have  thought  it,  my  dear  sir,"  said 
Mole,  in  much  the  same  manner  that  he  would  have  as- 
sumed to  conciliate  a  dangerous  lunatic. 

The  third  savage  lowered  his  bow  and  bounded  after 
his  comrades. 

He  flew  wildly  round  Mr.  Mole,  singing  an  awe-inspir- 
ing dirge. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  ig-j 

Then  he  wound  up  by  saying,  in  a  menacing  manner — 

"  Wah  hoo,  cantank'rous  big  duffah.     Wah  hoo  !  " 

"Oh,  Lor'! — oh,  Lor'!"  moaned  Mole,  in  deep  dis- 
tress, "  do  keep  still  there,  good  fellows." 

But  the  manner  of  the  other  savages  tended  a  little  to 
restore  his  confidence. 

They  appeared  inclined  to  treat. 

"Buckra  warrior  Mole,"  said  one  of  them. 

"Dear  me,  he  knows  my  name,"  said  Mole.  "Yes, 
sir. " 

' '  Hokus  pokey  tikey  hi  in  witechapel  par  willages  com. " 

And  an  awful  gesture  accompanied  this  alarming 
speech,  which  to  Mr.  Mole  meant  the  end  of  every  thing. 

"Take  all — take  all!"  he  groaned,  "leave  me  my 
life." 

"Buckra  warrior  Mole,"  said  the  savage,  benignantly. 
"  Morgan  say  all  money — all  gold  !  " 

"Ah,  you  speak  English,  noble  savage,"  ejaculated 
Mole,  eagerly. 

"Yes,  backslang  patter  sanjiles  gric  otater  can,"  re- 
sponded the  savage,  with  another  dance. 

"What  a  very  extraordinary  language,"  said  Mr.  Mole. 
"Some  words  sound  exactly  very  queer  English.  So 
Morgan  says  all  money,  all  gold?  " 

"  Yes,  and  buckra  warrior  Mole's  head." 

"  Ugh,  my  head  !  "  shrieked  Mole. 

The  savage  took  out  a  knife  about  six  inches  long,  and 
executed  an  Australian  saraband. 

"  It's  all  up,"  said  Mole.  "  Good-bye,  Chloe,  good-bye 
to  the  twins.  Good-bye  to  my  dear  Jack — to  my  dear 
Harvey  ;  I  shall  never  see  them  again." 

The  savage  who  had  before  held  the  bow  and  arrow, 
menacing  the  poor  gentleman,  had  by  this  time  found  a 
stone  bottle  and  taken  a  suck  at  it 

The  potent  spirit  made  him  cough,  and  choke,  and 
splutter,  and  then  its  effects  began  to  tell  upon  him  im- 
mediately. 

He  talked  wildly. 

"Ole  Massa  Mole,"  he  said,  with  a  tipsy  air. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  looking  up;  "what  is  it,  my 
worthy  young  savage  ?  Only  spare  my  life,  and  Mole 
will  be  your  slave. " 

"Ole  Massa  Mole  am  agallopshus  ole  soul." 


198  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOWS 

"Goodness  me!"  ejaculated  Mole;  "I  declare,  it 
sounds  like  Tinker." 

The  savage  giggled. 

"Yah,  yah!" 

This  settled  it. 

Mole  recognised  him  at  once. 

Filled  with  rage  and  indignation,  the  old  gentleman 
got  over  his  fright  in  some  slight  degree,  for  he  made 
sure  that  Tinker  had  turned  traitor. 

He  scrambled  up,  and  before  the  others  could  guess 
what  he  was  at,  he  made  a  rush  and  a  blow  at  Tinker. 

Had  it  taken  effect,  Tinker  would  have  felt  it ;  but 
that  youthful  nigger  was  knocked  off  his  perch  already 
by  the  strong  drink,  and  at  that  very  moment  measured 
his  length  upon  the  ground. 

Mole  dashed  past  the  savages  to  the  door  of  the  tent, 
and  then  blew  a  loud  blast  upon  his  bugle. 

Then  off  he  hobbled  as  fast  as  he  could  go. 

The  call  was  answered  from  the  settlement. 

"  Saved,  saved  !  "  cried  Mole. 

He  was  not  long  in  reaching  his  friends,  you  may  be 

sure. 

****** 

Now  the  savages  made  no  attempt  to  follow  him. 

On  the  contrary,  as  soon  as  he  was  gone,  the  other 
two  followed  Tinker's  example  by  rolling  on  the  ground, 
not  in  liquor,  but  in  the  wildest  mirth. 

They  absolutely  yelled  with  laughter. 

And  when  they  had  had  their  laugh  out,  they  went  to 
the  tub  of  water  outside  the  tent  and  washed  their  faces 
and  hands  with  all  possible  haste. 

****** 

Mole  came  back  followed  by  eight  armed  men. 
The  foremost  were  Sunday  and  Monday. 
"  Where  are  the  thieves,  sar  ?"  demanded  Monday. 
"Let's  get  at  'em,"  said  Sunday,  pushing  forward. 
"  Here  they  are,  in  the  tent." 
The  armed  men  pushed  Mr.  Mole  on. 
The  tent  was  entered  and  there  they  saw — 
Young  Jack  and  Harry  Girdwood  squatting  on  the  floor, 
washing  Tinker's  face  and  head  with  a  wet  towel. 
"Jack!" 
"Yes,  sir,"  answered  our  young  hero,  looking  up. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  1 99 

And    Harry!"   ejaculated    Mr.   Mole.      "Why,  sure- 


ly- 

"  We've  frightened  the  savages  away,  sir,"  said  young 
Jack. 

' '  You  have  ! "  exclaimed  Mole  ;  ' '  there,  I  told  you  so, " 
he  added,  turning  to  the  men  with  him,  "and  yet,  would 
you  believe  it,  for  a  moment  I  half  thought  that  you  had 
had  the  impudence  to — to " 

"Hikey  pike  wahditch  and  biled  owl !  "  said  young  Jack. 

"  With  a  wak-wallah  !  "  added  Harry  Girdwood. 

Mole  started. 

"What?" 

"  Keriki  ko  liveranbaken  wallah  !  "  said  young  Jack. 

This  was  too  much  for  the  audience. 

They  burst  into  a  regular  yell  of  laughter. 

Mr.  Mole  looked  very  sheepish. 

Then  very  savage. 

Then  he  thought  it  best  to  dissemble. 

He  knew  that  unless  he  could  get  out  of  the  mess 
adroitly,  he  would  never  hear  the  last  of  it. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  "  he  grinned,  "  so  you  thought  I  didn't 
know  you  !  Why,  you  wild  dogs,  I  knew  you  from  the 
lirst — ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

"Come,  come,  I  say,  Mr.  Mole,"  said  Harry  Girdwood, 
"that  won't  do  ;  you  were  in  an  awful  fright.'' 

"I, "said  Mr.  Mole  loftily,  "I  should  like  to  see  the 
man  who  could  ever  boast  of  frightening  Isaac  Mole." 

"Then  why  did  you  bring  all  these  people  with  you?" 

"  Just  to  show  them  what  fools  you  had  made  of  your- 
selves." 

But  stand  out  as  he  would  he  could  not  get  over  it,  and 
it  was  many  a  long  day  before  he  heard  the  last  of  the 
savages'  attack  upon  his  diggings. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

OLD  JACK  FALLS  INTO   TROUBLE BURIED  ALIVE — DESPAIR. 

WE  must  now  return  to  Harkaway,  Jefferson,  and  Dick 
Harvey. 

In  the  first  place  we  must  deal  with  Jack  Harkaway. 


200  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'-S 

Old  Jack  was  the  foremost  of  the  expedition,  a  fact 
Which  will  not  by  any  means  surprise  our  readers. 

His  ambition  was  to  rescue  his  old  friend's  wife  from 
the  clutches  of  the  villanous  bushranger,  Captain  Morgan, 
to  take  her  back  to  Dick,  and  watch  the  flush  of  happi- 
ness and  of  gratitude  mantle  his  honest  cheek. 
"I  shall  do  it,  too,"  said  old  Jack  to  himself. 
Little  did  he  know  what  had  already  taken  place. 
Little  did  he  think  that  already  Hilda  was  being  cared 
for  by  that  honest  but  eccentric  little  nigger,  Tinker. 

Harkaway  had  got  a  pretty  correct  notion  of  the  route 
his  friends  in  advance  were  likely  to  travel,  and  he  set 
out  upon  their  track  at  a  spanking  rate. 

But  unfortunately  he  veered  slightly  in  his  course,  with 
a  very  sad  result. 

Instead  of  coming  up  with  his  own  party,  he  crossed 
the  line  of  the  bushranger's  scouts. 

The  signal  was  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  be- 
fore old  Jack  could  realise  what  had  occurred,  he  was 
toppled  over  by  an  unseen  enemy  and  made  prisoner. 

"Got  one  of  you,"  said  a  ruffian,  bending  over  Hark- 
away  ;  "you  will  do,  to  begin  with." 

Jack  saw  that  he  was,  for  the  time,  trapped. 
"What's  your   price   to   let   me  go?"   demanded   old 
Jack. 

The  bushranger  looked  about  him. 

There  were  too  many  of  his  companions  about  for  him 
to  treat  on  such  a  subject. 

"More  than  you  could  pay,  I  know.     You  can  talk  to 
Captain  Morgan  about  that." 
'  Captain  Morgan  ?  " 
'Yes." 

'So  I  am  his  prisoner?  " 
'Yes." 

'  Let  me  see  him." 
'Presently." 
'  Is  he  away  ?  " 
'Not  far?"' 

'  Very  good.     I  wish  to  speak  with  him    as  soon  as 
may  be. " 

Old  Jack's  idea  was  that  by  a  liberal  outlay  he  might  be 
enabled  to  induce  the  ruffians  to  part  with  their  prisoner, 
Hilda. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTKAL1A.  3OI 

For  himself  he  thought  little  indeed,  at  present. 

While  this  thought  was  engrossing  his  whole  attention, 
a  voice  suddenly  exclaimed  in  his  ear — 

"So,  so,  old  friend,  we  meet  again  once  more." 

Harkaway  gave  a  start  as  he  looked  up. 

"  Hunston?  " 

"Yes." 

"You  in  league  with  my  enemies,  as  you  ever  were  ?  " 
said  Harkaway. 

^Aye,"  responded  Hunston  ;  "and  I  hope  I  ever  shall 
be." 

"  It  is  almost  time  that  you  repented  of  your  evil  ways, " 
said  Harkaway. 

"I  am  going  to  begin  my  repentance  shortly." 

"When?" 

"When  I  have  squared  accounts  with  you,"  replied 
Hunston. 

"Ungrateful  wretch,"  ejaculated  old  Jack.  "Do  you 
forget  that  I  saved  your  life  again  and  again  after  a 
succession  of  outrages  which  no  other  man  living  would 
have  pardoned  ? " 

"Brag  away,  brag  away,"  sneered  Hunston.  "You 
play  the  part  of  Good  Samaritan,  and  you  don't  forget  to 
brag  about  it.  Pah  !  you  were  always  a  sickening  cad 
with  your  cant,  Harkaway." 

The  latter  was  silent. 

A  flush  of  honest  indignation  mantled  his  cheek. 

"Your  good  opinion,  Hunston,"  he  said,  "would  be 
my  condemnation — your  condemnation  is  the  real  com- 
pliment." 

This  made  Hunston  writhe. 

He  could  not  subdue  Harkaway's  courage. 

"You  can  brag,  Jack  Harkaway, "said  Hunston,  grin- 
ning with  fiend-like  pleasure  as  a  horrible  thought  crossed, 
him  ;  "but  I've  got  one  in  store  for  you  that  shall  make 
you  shake  from  top  to  toe  like  an  aspen  leaf." 

Harkaway  did  not  even  deign  to  reply. 

"Dig  the  grave, "said  Hunston,  turning  to  the  bush- 
rangers. 

What !  a  grave  ! 

Harkaway  heard  it,  as  it  was  meant  he  should. 

But  he  could  not  believe  it  possible  that 

No,  no. 


202  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

This  was  part  of  Hunston's  programme  to  make  him 
show  the  white  feather. 

But  there  wasn't  such  an  article  in  the  Harkaway  ward- 
robe, as  old  Jack's  friends  had  often  and  often  remarked. 

The  men  proceeded  leisurely  to  dig  the  grave. 

From  time  to  time,  Hunston  would  watch  his  old  foe 
to  see  if  there  were  any  symptoms  of  fear  about  him. 

But  not  a  quiver  of  an  eyelid  betrayed  that  old  Jack 
realised  what  was  passing. 

Nor  did  he. 

He  knew  that  he  was  in  peril. 

Instinctively  he  felt  the  gravity  of  his  position. 

Yet  little  did  he  anticipate  the  fiend-like  cruelty  med- 
itated by  the  heartless  villain  whom  he  had  forgiven  forty 
times  and  more,  and  whose  miserable  life  he  had  saved 
over  and  over  again. 

"There,"  said  Hunston,  "  that  will  do.  I  don't  want  it 
too  deep." 

"Why,  it  will  hardly  cover  him  in,"  returned  one  of 
the  gravediggers. 

"  That's  what  I  want." 

"  How  so  ?  " 

"I  only  wish  to  nearly  cover  him.  Leave  his  head  a 
little  out,  so  that  he  may  not  die  too  quickly,  else  he'll 
not  taste  all  the  horrors  of  death  to  their  full  extent. " 

Harkaway  felt  a  little  uneasy. 

Well  he  might. 

The  words  of  the  ruffian  implied  a  dreadful  death. 

Yet  he  could  not  be  mistaken. 

He  was  to  be  buried  alive. 

Buried  alive  ! 

Does  the  reader  fully  realise  the  horrible  thought  ? 

It  is  not  easy  to  grapple  with  such  a  hideous  reflec- 
tion. 

Yet  this  was  Hunston's  determination. 

Harkaway,  his  hated  enemy,  the  one  man  upon  earth 
for  whom  he  had  nurtured  the  bitterest  enmity  for  3 
whole  generation,  was  now  in  his  power,  and  he  should 
taste  the  bitterness  of  a  lingering  death. 

Death  in  its  most  dreadful  form. 

Slow  torture. 

"In  with  him." 

"  Ready,"  said  the  gravediggers. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US 'TR  ALIA.  2  03 

The  bushrangers  seized  the  prisoner  by  the  shoulders 
and  feet,  and  dragged  him  into  the  newly-dug  grave. 

Brave  old  Jack  never  uttered  a  word ;  he  was  bound 
hand  and  foot. 

He  could  not  escape  from  the  bushrangers,  who  sur- 
rounded him  on  all  sides. 

Yet  he  disdained  to  show  the  white  feather  to  this 
heartless,  graceless  ruffian  who  had,  in  cold  blood,  con- 
demned him  to  such  a  fate. 

"Now  beg  your  life,  Jack  Harkaway,"  said  Hunston. 

Old  Jack  smiled. 

A  quiet,  irritating  smile,  far  more  galling  to  his  enemy 
than  blows  would  have  been. 

"Beg  your  life." 

"Of  you?" 

"Of  who  else?" 

"I  wouldn't  be  beholden  to  you  even  for  that." 

Hunston  turned  livid  with  rage,  and  advanced  to  strike 
him,  but  Jack's  bold  look  made  the  villain  lower  his  arm. 

"Fill  in  the  grave." 

The  two  gravediggers  obeyed  orders. 

A  few  shovelfuls  of  earth  were  thrown  over  old  Jack, 
and  then  Hunston  bade  them  hold. 

"Now  beg  your  life,  Jack  Harkaway,  of  Hunston." 

No  answer. 

"Ask  for  mercy,  Jack  Harkaway,"  he  said,  "and 
perhaps  I  may  relent." 

"Bah!" 

Hunston  held  the  best  end  of  the  rope  this  time,  it  is 
true,  yet,  never  at  his  worst  strait,  did  he  suffer  more  than 
now. 

Hunston  felt  rage,  humiliation,  disappointment,  all — 
all  together. 

Nothing  could  subdue  the  valorous  soul  of  brave  Jack 
Harkaway. 

"  Fill  in  his  grave  quick  this  time,"  said  Hunston. 

"Aye,  aye,  let's  get  it  over." 

The  spades  went  to  work — such  spades  as  they  had — 
and  the  unfortunate  captive's  body  was  rapidly  covered. 

"Not  over  his  head." 

The  eagerness  of  this  showed  the  villain's  intentions 
clearly  enough. 

Slow  torture ! 


804  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SCA"S 

By  that  was  the  death  to  which  he  doomed  Harkaway. 

Where  were  his  comrades  now  ? 

Where  was  Harvey  ? 

Where  was  the  bold  and  stalwart  Jefferson  ? 

Miles  and  miles  away  from  this,  probably. 

But  would  Morgan  and  the  rest  of  the  bushrangers  ap- 
prove of  Hunston's  thus  gratifying  his  own  present  spite, 
and  sacrificing  the  interests  of  the  gang  ? 

Surely  not. 

The  thought  had  barely  crossed  him,  when  he  gave  a 
terrific  cry — a  yell  so  loud  and  so  sudden  that  the  ruffians 
commanded  by  Hunston  fell  back  affrighted. 

"  Help  !     To  the  rescue  of  Harkaway  !  " 

It  echoed  all  round  the  place. 

But  no  answer  came. 

No  signs  of  help. 

They  piled  on  the  earth,  and  poor  old  Jack  gave  him- 
self up  for  dead,  but  his  courage  was  still  with  him. 

"At  last,  Jack  Harkaway,"  said  Hunston,  "at  last, 
after  waiting  all  these  years,  after  going  all  over  the 
world  for  it,  I  have  achieved  the  one  absorbing  idea  of 
my  life.  You  are  done  for.  Die,  die,  good  Harkaway," 
he  added,  grinning  with  the  intensity  of  his  bitterness, 
"  die  like  a  rat  in  a  trap,  but  with  never  a  bit  of  cheese 
to  nibble  at — with  never  a  chance  of  gnawing  yourself 
free.  Die,  knowing  that  it  is  I,  Hunston,  your  old  school- 
fellow, that  doomed  you  to  death." 

Never  a  word  did  Jack  speak. 

He  gave  his  villanous  enemy  a  proud,  defiant  look, 
even  while  despair  settled  upon  him. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

IN  THE  NICK   OF  TIME JEFFERSON  TO   THE  RESCUE A  FATAL 

FIGHT TWO  TO  TWELVE ROUT    OF   THE  BUSHRANGERS,    AND 

DEATH  OF  JEFFERSON. 

"  HARK  !  " 

"What  is  it?" 

' '  Didn't  you  hear  that  ? " 

"What?" 

"  I  could  almost  swear  I  heard  a  cry." 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  .       205 

"  Fancy." 

"Perhaps,"  answered  Jefferson  ;   "  yet  I  thought " 

He  listened  intently  again,  and  a  second  cry  came, 
fainter  even  than  the  first. 

Yet  it  was  sufficiently  distinct  to  indicate  the  direction 
from  whence  it  came. 

"I  could  swear  that  I  heard  it,"  said  Jefferson,  with  an 
air  of  conviction  ;  "  moreover,  Harvey,  I  feel  sure  that  it 
is  a  familiar  cry." 

"Whose?" 

"Jack's." 

Harvey  stared. 

"Why,  Jefferson,"  he  said,  "if  you  did  really  hear 
any  thing,  it  was  so  faint  that  you  could  certainly  not  say 
what  it  was,  even  if  it  was  a  human  voice." 

Jefferson  made  some  impatient  rejoinder,  and  looked  to 
his  firearms. 

"I  am  so  certain  of  it,"  he  said,  "that  I  am  going  off 
to  try  and  be  in  time." 

"  In  time  for  what?  " 

"To  save  him." 

"Who?" 

"Jack." 

Harvey  looked  upon  his  companion  as  mad. 

"If  you  hear  my  revolver  fired  twice,"  said  Jefferson, 
"come  up  as  fast  as  you  can,  for  I  may  wa  t  help." 

And  before  they  could  say  any  thing  more,  Jefferson  had 
gone. 

He  started  off  at  a  run,  and  soon  disappeared. 

He  had  passed  years  in  the  backwoods,  and  his  hear- 
ing was  more  acute  than  that  of  Dick  Harvey,  or,  indeed, 
of  any  ordinary  hunter,  and  soon  he  heard  sounds  con- 
firming his  suspicions. 

More  cries,  louder  and  more  distinct  than  ever. 

Aye,  and  the  voice  was  now  unmistakable. 

"Jack  Harkaway's  voice,  for  a  million  !  " 

He  redoubled  his  speed,  and  got  over  the  ground  like 
lightning  until,  at  length,  he  was  startled  by  hearing  a 
diabolical  sound  of  triumphant  laughter. 

This  was  followed  by  a  noisy  demonstration,  in  which 
some  half  dozen  voices  joined. 

"Strangers!"  exclaimed  Jefferson,  in  alarm;  "then 
Harkaway  is  in  the  hands  of  the  Philistines,  as  I  feared. 


206  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

What  shall  I  do  ?  Signal  Harvey,  and  the  men,  or — no, 
I  will  keep  my  two  shots,  for  I  may  want  them,  and  they 
might  alarm  the  enemy  to  no  good. " 

On  he  ran  until  he  came  to  the  top  of  a  hill,  upon  the 
further  side  of  which  a  tragedy  was  being  performed. 

There  was  Hunston  and  his  mob  of  ruffians  engaged  in 
burying  poor  Harkaway  alive. 

Jefferson  took  in  the  scene  at  a  single  glance. 

He  was  so  close,  that  he  was  within  pistol-shot. 

Out  came  his  revolvers,  and  taking  a  rapid,  but  yet 
careful  aim,  he  let  fly. 

Bang,  bang  !  they  went. 

A  cry  of  mingled  pain  and  surprise  came  from  the  bush- 
rangers, as  they  looked  up. 

"  Hillo,  ho,  Harvey  !  "  yelled  Jefferson. 

And  down  the  steep  declivity  he  tore. 

"Harvey,  Harvey,  hallo!"  he  shouted,  as  he  ran. 
"Rescue,  rescue!  Courage,  Jack,  old  boy;  here's  help. " 

"Jefferson,"  replied  Harkaway,  very  faintly. 

"Right,  Jack." 

Hunston  turned  pale  at  the  sound. 

His  first  impulse  was  to  fly  ;  but  shame  stayed  him. 

"Don't  run  away,"  said  the  men,  "stay  and  fight  it 
out." 

Two  of  the  bushrangers  were  down  Math  the  first  fire. 

But  now  getting  in  better  range,  Jefferson  blazed  away 
again. 

Down  went  another,  howling  with  pain. 

Now  we  do  not  mean  to  say  that  they  would  have  run 
away  from  a  single  enemy,  but  in  the  suddenness  of 
Jefferson's  attack,  they  felt  sure  that  he  was  followed  by 
a  large  party,  and  so  they  all — with  the  exception,  of 
course,  of  the  three  wounded  men — turned  and  fled. 

Jefferson  flew  up  to  the  grave,  and  tore  wildly  at  the 
earth. 

It  had  been  thrown  loosely  over  the  victim,  and  so  to 
release  him  was  not  a  very  long,  nor  a  very  difficult  job. 

One  stroke  of  his  long  bowie  knife  loosened  the  thongs 
which  bound  him. 

"God  bless  you,  Jefferson,"  said  Harkaway;  "you 
have  saved  me." 

Before  Jefferson  could  make  any  reply,  a  loud  outcry 
from  the  enemy  attracted  their  attention. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRA  LI  A.  -_GJ 

"Look  out,  Jack,  my  boy,"  cried  Jefferson,  "they  are 
coming,  and  we  must  fight  for  life. " 

"Curs  !  "  cried  one  of  the  wounded,  who  was  writhing 
upon  the  ground.  "Eight  men  run  away  from  one.  He 
is  alone." 

The  flying  bushrangers  did  not  want  this  information, 
however. 

The  first  fright  over,  they  saw  that  their  alarm  was  un- 
necessary. Back  they  came. 

"  Look  out,  Jack,  my  boy,"  said  Jefferson. 

"All  right,  old  friend" 

"Take  this,  Jack." 

He  thrust  his  pistol  into  Harkaway's  hand. 

The  bushrangers  came  on  with  a  rush. 

A  shot,  at  close  quarters,  was  fired  from  the  enemy, 
and  an  involuntary  cry  escaped  Jefferson. 

"Heaven  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "I  am  hit  hard,  Jack." 

"  Miscreants  1"  cried  old  Jack;  "they  shall  pay  bit- 
terly for  that." 

Snatching  up  the  nearest  weapon  to  hand — one  of  the 
spades  which  had  been  employed  in  digging  his  grave — 
he  dashed  rapidly  to  meet  the  foe. 

Jefferson  pulled  himself  together. 

' '  Now  for  it. " 

Nearing  them,  old  Jack  made  a  sudden  rush  forward, 
and  fired  his  revolver  right  into  the  thick  of  the  rascals, 
then  he  fell  upon  them  with  his  spade. 

Two  broken  heads  were  the  result  of  his  first  attack. 

Up  came  Jefferson  just  as  Hunston  was  reeling  back 
with  the  shock,  and  shooting  out  his  sledge-hammer  fist, 
he  grassed  the  traitor  like  a  butcher  fells  an  ox. 

The  bushrangers  were  one  and  all  big,  powerful  fellows ; 
men,  in  a  word,  who  could  always  hold  their  own. 

But  they  had  not  been  accustomed  to  see  such  fight- 
ing men  as  Jefferson  and  Jack  Harkaway. 

The  former  went  in  for  all  round  fighting,  abandoning 
his  pistols  and  knife,  and  there  was  scarcely  a  man  there 
present  but  received  some  striking  proofs  of  his  prowess. 

In  less  time  than  it  takes  us  to  record  the  fact,  there 
was  not  a  sound  pate  present. 

He  shot  out  at  their  heads,  and  the  proofs  of  the  exact- 
ness of  his  aim  were  shown  in  bleeding  mouths,  and  flat- 


2  oS  JA  c  K  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

tened  noses,  while  there  was  scarcely  an  eye  but  what 
was  rapidly  going  into  mourning. 

Nor  was  Harkaway  idle,  as  you  may  suppose. 

He  did  not  dispense  his  favours  so  evenly  as  Jefferson. 

He  singled  out  such  of  the  ruffians  as  had  shown  him 
the  greatest  cruelty,  and  he  peppered  them  in  a  way  that 
they  never  forgot. 

"Murder  !  "  yelled  one  of  the  most  cruelly  used. 

"Take  that  !  "  cried  Jefferson. 

He  took  it. 

It  was  not  at  all  nice,  nor  would  the  man  have  taken  it 
had  he  been  able  to  do  as  he  liked. 

But  it  was  not  a  matter  of  choice. 

That  was  simply  a  knock  on  the  head,  which  threatened 
*o  put  an  end  to  his  tricks  for  many  a  day. 

Down  he  went,  like  a  stone  in  a  pond. 

Now  while  the  fight  was  going  on  thus  well  for  our 
friends,  Jefferson  and  Harkaway — for  they  had  scarcely 
received  a  scratch  after  Jefferson's  shot,  of  which  more 
anon — the  bold  American  gave  a  sudden  cry  of  anguish. 

Down  he  went. 

Hunston,  who  was  sprawling  upon  the  ground,  had 
dealt  him  a  treacherous  stroke  across  the  leg  with  his 
long  knife  that  had  severed  the  tendons  of  his  knee. 

But  the  dealer  of  this  fatal  stroke  soon  repented  of  it. 

Jefferson  fell  half  upon  him. 

Badly  wounded  though  he  was,  he  had  yet  strength 
enough  left  to  hammer  away  at  the  enemy's  face. 

And  soon  the  villain  Hunston  was  battered  out  of  all 
recognition. 

One  of  the  friends  being  down,  it  soon  became  very  hot 
work  for  the  other. 

Poor  old  Jack  was  sorely  pressed  by  the  enemy. 

Yet  he  contrived  to  keep  them  at  bay  pretty  fairly,  for 
he  had  a  strong  and  dexterous  right  arm,  which  they  one 
and  all  had  learnt  to  dread. 

"  Shoot  him  down  !  "  shouted  one  of  the  villains.  "Who 
has  got  a  pistol  ?  " 

"  I  have." 

"  Fire  away,  then." 

A  sharp  report  followed  this  appeal  closely. 

But  happily  the  bullet  whistled  close  to  old  Jack's  ear 
without  doing  him  any  damage. 


ADVENTURES  IN  A USTRALIA.  209 

An  inch  nearer  and  it  would  have  been  awkward. 

Harkaway  dropped  on  them  in  reply. 

Ding,  dong  !  he  went  at  the  man  with  the  pistol,  and 
his  fists  did  not  do  as  the  bullet  had  done. 

They  did  not  whistle  past  him,  but  came  straight  home, 
and  made  the  wretched  possessor  of  the  pistol  bitterly 
repent  ever  having  fired  that  shot. 

The  first  blow  from  old  Jack's  left  knocked  his  head 
completely  out  of  the  square.  The  man  lived  long 
after. 

But  he  never, got  over  the  crick  in  the  neck  which  that 
doughty  blow  gave  him. 

Old  Jack  was  on  his  mettle. 

It  was  a  rare  sight  to  see  him  drop  into  those  ruffians. 

How  it  would  have  gladdened  the  heart  of  some  of  his 
old  schoolfellows,  and  his  old  college  chums,  too. 
****** 

"Jack,"  called  the  poor  maimed  Jefferson,  faintly,  for 
his  strength  was  nearly  spent. 

Harkaway  heard  him. 

But  his  attention  was  given  to  the  three  cowardly  vil- 
lains, who  were  endeavouring  to  topple  him  over,  and  he 
could  not  even  reply  for  the  moment. 

"Jack,  1 — 1 — lend  a  hand.  It's  all  over  with  your  old 
friend  Jefferson." 

Harkaway  gave  a  heartrending  cry. 

The  word  gave  him  a  fresh  energy — the  energy  of 
despair. 

Dashing  at  his  adversaries,  he  scattered  them  and  ran 
to  Jefferson. 

One  of  the  wounded  men  had  spitted  him  with  a  knife 
as  they  lay  side  by  side  upon  the  ground. 

And  now  the  life  blood  was  ebbing  fast  from  the  brave 
fellow's  breast. 

It  was  a  piteous  sight. 

Harkaway  saw  the  fatal  knife,  reeking  with  the  bold 
American's  blood,  and  it  filled  him  with  madness. 

He  fell  upon  the  destroyer  with  deep  rage  in  his  heart, 
and  gave  him  no  mercy. 

But  this  act  nearly  cost  him  his  own  life,  for  the  rest  of 
the  men  were  upon  him  in  an  instant,  and  he  was  borne 

to  the  ground  and  overpowered. 

****** 


14 


210  JACK  HA  RKA  WAY  A  ND  HIS  SON 'S 

Suddenly  there  were  four  or  five  shots  fired  in  rapid 
succession. 

A  party  of  armed  men  came  down  the  hill  at  a  desper- 
ate pace. 

It  was  Harvey  and  his  friends. 

The  bushrangers,  now  reduced  to  three,  vainly  en- 
deavoured to  fly. 

There  was  not  a  sound  man  amongst  them,  for  Jeffer- 
son and  old  Jack  had  so  dealt  upon  them  that  they  could 
not  get  over  the  ground  very  fast. 

Before  they  could  get  a  dozen  yards,  they  were  shot 
down  or  beaten  to  the  ground. 

The  victory  was,  after  all,  with  our  friends. 

But  ah,  at  what  a  terrible  price  ! 

Harkaway  had  three  wounds,  ugly  to  look  at,  but  not 
dangerous. 

Alas  for  poor  Jefferson  ! 

He  was  one  mass  of  wounds,  from  top  to  toe. 

The  knife  and  the  bullet  had  done  their  work. 

"  Harvey,"  said  Jefferson,  faintly,  "give  me  Something 
to  drink.  I  shall  choke  with  thirst." 

A  flask  of  brandy  was  placed  to  his  lips,  and  he  drank 
freely. 

The  ardent  spirit  appeared  to  revive  him. 

"Hah!  that's  brave,"  he  said,  speaking  with  evident 
difficulty  for  a  minute  or  two.  "  It  can't  last  long." 

"Come,  come,  Jeff,"  said  Dick;  "it  isn't  so  bad  as 
"that." 

"It  is,  though,"  returned  the  dying  man,  seriously. 
"Where's  Jack?" 

"  Here,  Jefferson,"  said  Harkaway. 

"  Much  damaged?  "  asked  the  brave  American,  with  a 
faint  smile  of  recognition. 

' '  No,  no — knocked  about. " 

"But  not  fatal?" 

"  I  trust  not." 

"Heaven  be  thanked!"  returned  Jefferson,  earnestly, 
"for  the  sake  of  your  poor  wife  and  your  boy.  Jack,  old 
friend,  I  am  going  home  fast,  "he  went  on,  seriously.  "I 
begin  to  see  clearly,  now,  on  certain  points." 

"What?" 

' '  You  must  leave  these  wild  scenes.  A  family  man  has 
no  right  to  play  pitch-and-toss  with  his  life  like  that.  For 


ADVENTURES  IN  A USTRALIA.  2 1 1 

me  it  is  very  different.  I  had  nothing  to  live  for,  and  I 
shan't  live  long." 

Here  he  smiled  grimly. 

"Yes,  you  will,  you  must,  for  all  our  sakes,"  cried  Hark- 
away. 

"  Not  I.  I  feel  I  am  about  leaving  you  all  in  this  world 
for  ever." 

"No,  no." 

"Yes,  it  is  so.  That  last  dig  was  quite  enough  to  do 
for  me,  if  I  hadn't  received  my  quantity  before,  which  I 
had.  But  we  have  peppered  them  royally,  Jack,  old  boy. " 

"We  did — we  did,"  returned  Harkaway,  pressing  his 
hand. 

' '  Harvey. " 

"Yes,  Jefferson." 

"Give  me  another  pull  at  the  bottle,  while  you  count 
up  the  field. " 

Harvey  obeyed. 

Another  drink  gave  the  brave  man  renewed  strength, 
and  he  awaited  Harvey's  reply  with  apparent  eagerness. 

"Eleven  of  them." 

"  Huzzah  !  "  cried  the  dying  American.  "That's 
something.  By  Heaven,  Jack,  these  vagabond  bush- 
rangers will  learn  to  respect  the  name  of  Harkaway  for 
evermore." 

The  effort  cost  him  dearly,  and  as  the  last  word  passed 
his  lips,  Jefferson  sank  back  pale  and  breathless. 

"Jack." 

"Yes." 

"Dick." 

"Here,  Jeff." 

"Give  me  your  hand — a  hand  each,"  said  the  brave 
fellow,  looking  up  into  their  faces.  "The  end  is  near — 
a  few  moments  only,  and  it  will  be  farewell." 

"Jeff,  Jeff,"  exclaimed  Harvey,  averting  his  face; 
"you'll  break  my  heart." 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  Dick,"  returned  the  dying  man, 
changing  his  humour  with  quaint  suddenness.  ' '  Don't  re- 
gret me,  dear  boys.  Why,  if  I  had  to  choose  my  death 
this  minute,  I  could  not  hit  upon  one  half  so  glorious.  I 
have  learnt  to  love  you,  Jack,  as  a  brother,  and  to  me  it  is  a 
real  happiness  to  have  fallen  in  saving  you.  God  bless 
you,  Jack  !  " 


212  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

Harkaway  returned  his  grip  in  silence. 

His  heart  was  far  too  full  for  words. 

"You'll  have  to  put  me  in  the  grave  they  dug  for  Jack," 
he  said,  turning  to  Dick  Harvey,  with  a  sad  smile.  "An 
odd  fancy,  that.  Good-bye.  Think  of  poor  Jeff  some- 
times, and  never  regret  this  glorious  day.  I'm  going  to 
rejoin  my  dear  friend,  Brand — poor  little  Magog  !  a  dear 
friend  to  me — and  to  go  to  him  above,  in  a  better  and 
brighter  world,  takes  away  what  little  bitterness  death 
has  for  me.  Jack,  dear  boy — Dick " 

His  voice  grew  fainter. 

A  film  gathered  over  his  eyes. 

He  tried  to  speak  again. 

But  although  his  lips  moved,  no  sound  came. 

It  was  too  late. 

A  faint,  spasmodic  quiver  of  the  lips,  and  the  bravest 
heart  that  ever  beat  was  still  for  ever. 

The  bold  Jefferson  had  gone  to  rejoin  his  friend,  Magog 

Brand,  in  real  earnest. 

*  #  #  #  *  * 

Slowly — reverently  they  laid  the  dead  brave  fellow  in 
the  grave  ready  dug. 

The  only  funeral  service  given  over  him  was  a  silent 
prayer  and  the  bitter  tears  of  his  heart-broken  friends  and 
comrades. 

"  Farewell,  dear,  dear  Jefferson  !  "  wailed  Harkaway. 
"  We  shall  never  look  upon  such  a  friend  as  you  again." 

"Never,"  iterated  Harvey,  bitterly,  "  never." 

"  Peace  be  to  his  ashes  !  " 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

MR.   MOLE  HAS  A  WONDERFUL  ADVENTURE HOW   TINKER    FISHED 

HIM  OUT A  WICKED  HOAX. 

UNEASINESS  prevailed  in  the  settlement. 

Day  after  day  passed  by,  and  no  news  of  Jack  or  Dick, 

Young  Jack  and  his  friend  Harry  Girdwood  did  their 
best  to  reassure  Mrs.  Harkaway  and  the  ladies  generally. 

They  were,  however,  far  from  comfortable  in  their  own 
minds. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TRALIA .  2 1 3 

Where  could  they  be  ? 

Why  was  there  no  message  ? 

Some  terrible  mishap,  doubtless,  had  occurred. 

The  only  person  in  all  the  settlement  who  appeared  to 
take  it  less  to  heart  than  the  rest,  was  Tinker. 

The  black  boy  was  not  wanting  in  sympathy  nor  kindly 
instincts  ;  but  he  constantly  repeated  that  it  was  not  so 
easy  to  get  over  the  ground  as  they  supposed. 

Now  so  lightly  did  Tinker  take  the  matter — such  was 
his  boundless  confidence  in  his  master,  old  Jack,  and  in 
Jefferson,  Harvey,  and  the  rest — that  he  kept  up  his 
pranks,  and  kept  the  settlement  generally  in  a  state  of 
commotion  by  one  particular  experiment. 

He  rigged  himself  up  a  tent  close  beside  Mr.  Mole's, 
and  into  this  tent,  in  the  dead  of  night,  he  conveyed  a 
pick  and  spade,  and  a  variety  of  tools. 

Mr.  Mole  eyed  that  tent  with  distrust,  for  Tinker  had 
shown  him  that  he  was  an  adept  in  the  villanous  art  of 
practical  joking. 

Still  Tinker  kept  to  his  own  tent,  and  never  by  any 
chance  ventured  to  intrude  upon  Mr.  Mole. 

Meanwhile,  Tinker  worked  as  hard  as  a  galley-slave 
under  his  own  canvas. 

No  one  could  guess  at  what. 

Tinker  was  close. 

"Close  as  wax,  sar,  dis  bewful  lubly  chile,  sar,"  he 
said,  with  a  grin,  to  anyone  who  tried  to  fathom  him. 
Mr.  Mole  was  uneasy. 

From  Tinker's  tent  came  forth  the  most  discordant 
sounds,  which  continually  reminded  poor  Mole  of  that 
attack  upon  his  mine  by  the  sham  savages. 

And  when  he  showed  at  the  tent  door,  the  black  boy 
bore  very  evident  signs  of  having  worked  very  hard. 
Worked  at  what  ? 

Mole  grew  more  and  more  uneasy  in  his  mind. 

Was  there  some  fresh  conspiracy  hatching  ? 

"That  beast  of  a  black  boy  means  mischief,  I  know," 
said  Mole  to  himself,  repeatedly.  "Does  he  mean  to 
rob  me?" 

Dreadful  thought. 

Poor  old  Mole  dared  not  leave  his  mine. 

Waking  or  sleeping,  he  dared  not  leave  it.     He  ate  in  it 

He  drank  in  it,  and  wrapped  in  a  thick  blanket,  he  slept 


214  JACK  HARK  A  WAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

in  it,  and  during  his  sleep,  young  Jack  and  Harry  would 
creep  in  silently  and  in  the  earth  place  a  few  small  bits 
of  the  old  brass  candlestick,  just  to  encourage  old  Mole 
in  his  search  for  gold. 

Now,  although  Mole's  property  has  been  designated 
the  mine,  the  reader  must  not  suppose  it  was  an  excava- 
tion of  any  very  great  depth. 

The  mine  consisted  of  a  hole  some  ten  feet  span,  at 
the  bottom  of  which  was  a  smaller  excavation  two  feet  in 
circumference,  and  perhaps  about  the  same  depth. 

Here  it  was  that  Mr.  Mole  was  convinced  lay  the 
metal  which  was  to  reward  him  for  all  he  had  suffered 
and  undergone  in  the  past. 

This  was  now  a  spot  most  jealously  guarded  by  the 
mine  owner,  who  sat  on  the  side  of  the  pit  with  his  feet 
in  the  hole  at  the  bottom  of  it. 

"Now,  if  I  drop  off  to  sleep,"  said  the  wary  Mole  to 
himself,  with  a  chuckle,  "  I'll  defy  Master  Tinker  or  any 
of  the  robbers  to  come  and  play  tricks  with  my  property, 
without  disturbing  me. 

"Ya-awh,  it's  astonishing  how  drowsy  I  feel,"  said 
Mr.  Mole,  yawning.  "  I  shall  knock  myself  up,  if  I  don't 

look  out — ya-awh  !  " 

*****  * 

Tinker  plied  pick  and  spade. 

He  was  always  at  it. 

And  why? 

There  was  a  reason  for  it,  and  that  reason  was  shortly 
to  appear. 

"Golly,  ain't  I  wicked?"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he 
paused  in  his  self-set  labour. 

"Cantankerous,  big,  naughty,  spiteful  I  am.  Yah, 
yah  ! ': 

He  stopped  suddenly  short  in  his  laugh. 

"Who's  dar?" 

"It's  only  me,  Tinker,"  answered  a  familiar  voice. 

"Massa  Jack?  " 

"Yes,"  said  our  youthful  hero;  "and  Harry's  with 
me." 

"What  you  want?"  asked  the  black  boy,  running  up 
to  meet  him,  so  as  to  prevent  him  taking  a  close  obser- 
vation of  his  work. 

"We  only  want  to  know  what  you  are  doing  ?  " 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


2I5 


"  Have  you  found  a  gold  mine,  too  ? "  asked  Harry. 

Tinker  replied  with  a  suppressed  grin,  that  rumbled 
audibly  in  his  inside,  as  though  it  threatened  some  vol- 
canic eruption. 

"Massa  Jack,"  said  Tinker,  pulling  a  hypocritical  face, 
"  I'se  awful  wicked  just." 

"We  know  that  you're  awful  wicked,  Tinker,"  said 
Harry  Girdwood. 

"  Now  tell  us  what  you  are  after  here,"  said  young 
Jack. 

"You  no  tell  nobody?"  said  Tinker,  in  a  whisper. 

"No." 

"  An'  you,  Massa  Harry  ?  " 

"  No,  no." 

Thus  assured,  Tinker  drew  near  to  whisper  to  them 
his  mysterious  secret. 

But  the  joke  of  the  situation  so  tickled  his  fancy  that 
he  couldn't  get  a  word  out  for  laughing. 

"Golly,  I  'spects  I'se  gwine  to  bust  right  up  wid laugh- 
ing," he  said,  holding  his  sides. 

"Well,  out  with  it,  Tinker,"  said  young  Jack,  impa- 
tiently, "and  let  us  'bust  up  '  with  you." 

"Look  hyar,"  said  the  black  boy,  leading  them  into 
his  digging.  ' '  Look  at  dis  hyar  funnel. " 

"Funnel!  Oh,  you  mean  tunnel,"  said  Harry  Gird- 
wood. 

"Dat's  it." 

"And  what's  that  for?  " 


"Why,  dat  funnel  goes  right  away  to " 

And  here  he  sank  his  voice  to  a  whisper,  and  finished 
in  young  Jack's  ear. 

Harry  heard  it  too. 

And  then  these  three  young  boys  laughed  until  they 
held  their  sides. 

What  could  it  be  ? 

We  shall  see. 

****** 

Mr.  Mole  dozed. 
He  yawned. 
Dozed  again. 

And  then  the  unearthly  sounds  issuing  from  the  next 
tent  aroused  him. 

"Thought  I  heard  something,"  he  muttered.      "Cer- 


2 1 6  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

tainly  thought  I  heard  a  noise.  Very  odd.  Strange 
things  happen  to  people.  I'm  just  as  if  I  was  taking  a 
foot-bath.  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

The  idea  tickled  him. 

"Just  like  a  foot-bath,  for  all  the  world.  Fancy  wash- 
ing my  wooden  legs.  Ha,  ha  !  " 


As  Mr.  Mole  again  dozed,  a  singular  event  occurred. 

The  ground  beneath  his  feet  was  pierced  by  a  thick 
rod. 

This  shot  up. 

Then  there  was  a  pause,  and  presently  some  water 
oozed  slowly  out. 

It  came  on  quicker  and  quicker  with  a  gurgling  sound, 
until  the  hole  at  the  bottom  of  the  pit  was  full. 

A  foot-bath. 

It  was  indeed  a  foot-bath  with  a  vengeance. 

While  the  wooden  limbs  were  bathed,  it  was  all  very 
well,  but  the  water  rose  higher,  until  it  reached  his 
flesh. 

And  then  it  struck  a  sudden  chill  to  him,  that  caused 
him  to  rouse  up  with  a  shiver. 

"What  an  extraordinary  feeling,"  he  exclaimed  ;  "just 
for  all  the  world  as  if  I  was  sitting  in  cold  wat — hullo  !  " 

He  stared  in  utter  amazement. 

What  could  it  mean  ? 

The  water  rose  higher  and  higher,  until  it  covered  his 
legs  and  thighs. 

This  aroused  Mr.  Mole  thoroughly,  and  he  gave  a 
mighty  jump  out  of  the  hole. 

But  the  water  had  made  it  slippery  at  the  edges,  and 
down  he  flopped,  faster  than  he  had  got  up. 

But  this  time,  he  went  sprawling  full  length  in  the  hole, 
only  to  scramble  up  again  spluttering  and  puffing. 

A  miserably  ludicrous  aspect  he  presented,  when  he 
got  up  too. 

And  the  water  was  still  rising. 

He  clutched  frantically  at  the  edges  of  the  mine,  but 
the  earth  crumbled  in  his  fingers,  and  down  he  went 
again. 

"  Help  ! "  he  shouted.  "  Help,  help  !  Something's  the 
matter  with  my  gold  mine.  Help,  help  !  " 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


217 


Had  poor  Mole  been  less  frightened,  he  might  have 
heard  Tinker's  triumphant  laughter. 

"Tinker!"  cried  Mole,  wildly,  as  the  water  rose 
higher  and  higher.  "Tinker  !  Help,  good,  kind  Tinker  1 
Help,  Tinker,  you  villain.  Oh,  good  Tinker!  come  and 
help  your  old  friend  Mole. 

Tinker  came  running  out  of  his  tent,  followed  by  Harry 
Girdwood  and  young  Jack. 

"Oh,  Lor' — oh,  Lor',  Massa  Jack!"  cried  Tinker, 
(seemingly  in  the  greatest  surprise.  "Jes'  look  hyar. 
Hyar's  Massa  Mole  a-swimmin'  like  mad. " 

"Pull  me  out,  you  young  villain  !  "  yelled  Mole. 

"What  yar  washin'  yerself  for,  Massa  Mole?  "  inquired 
Tinker. 

Mole  made  a  grab  upwards,  but  missing  his  hold, 
down  he  dropped  again,  and  was  covered  with  the  water. 

"  Beast !  "  he  cried,  as  soon  as  he  could  get  his  breath. 
"Pull  me  out,  you  young  black  beast !  " 

"  Yes,  sar,"  answered  Tinker,  as  coolly  as  if  the  matter 
was  one  of  no  urgency  whatever.  "Wait  till  I  get  my 
fishing  rod." 

"You  devil!"  cried  poor  Mole.  "I'll  have  you 
whipped." 

' '  Yah,  yah  !  "  laughed  Tinker. 

"  You'll  suffer  for  this." 

Tinker  laughed  in  his  aggravating  way,  and  took  an 
elaborate  double  sight  at  Mole,  who  writhed  with  rage 
and  with  the  unpleasantness  of  the  situation. 

"The  water  is  rushing  in  quicker.  I  shall  be  drowned. 
Help  me  out,  oh  1  I'll  kill  you  !  "  yelled  Mole,  shaking 
his  fist  up  at  him. 

"Den  I  no  get  you  out,"  cried  Tinker,  running  away. 

"Tinker,  Tinker!"  cried  Mole.  "Good  Tinker,  do 
help  me  out." 

Tinker  slowly  returned. 

"  Dat's  better,"  he  said.  "And  now,"  he  added, 
gravely  wagging  his  forefinger  at  the  unfortunate  gold 
digger.  "You  be  good  boy  for  the  fewsher  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  gasped  Mole. 

"Den  out  you  come." 

Saying  which,  he  let  down  a  rope,  and  pulled  the  old 
gentleman  out. 

Once  free  from  the  water,  he  hoisted  him  up,  until  Jack 


2 1 8  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

and  Harry  were  within  reach,  and  they  helped  drag  him 
free. 

Tinker  sat  on  the  ground,  laughing  at  the  miserable 
figure  old  Mole  cut  at  that  moment 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

MR.      MOLE     MAKES     AN     AWFUL     DISCOVERY THE    TEST    OF    THE 

GOLD    AND    THE    EXTINGUISHER    NUGGET. 

"WHY,  however  did  the  accident  happen,  sir?  "  asked 
Harry  Girdwood. 

"  I  struck  on  a  spring,  I  suppose,"  replied  Mole. 

The  three  boys  exchanged  significant  looks. 

"No  doubt,  sir." 

"  Good  lot  of  springs,  Massa  Mole,"  said  Tinker,  grin- 
ning. 

"I  should  almost  think  so,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  shaking 
the  wet  off  his  hair  and  face  ;  "now,  look  here,  Tinker." 

"Yes,  sar." 

"Just  you  run  up  to  the  big  house  and  get  me  a  change 
of  clothing. " 

"Yes,  sar.  Oh,  sar,  I  tell  you  what  you  look  like, 
sar  ;  you  look  like  a  splendiferous  water  mole,  sar  ;  yah, 
yah  !  " 

"Fly!" 

"Yes,  sar." 

Tinker  ran  off,  just  in  time  to  save  himself  from  a  lump 
of  mud  Mole  was  about  to  throw  at  him. 

And  while  he  was  gone,  Harry  and  young  Jack  strolled 
round  Mr.  Mole's  gold  and  water  mine. 

No  sooner  were  they  gone  than  Mr.  Mole  was  seized 
with  a  fit  of  curiosity. 

' '  What  can  that  boy  Tinker  have  been  after  there  ? " 
he  muttered  to  himself. 

So  looking  about  him  to  see  that  Harry  and  young  Jack 
were  occupied  elsewhere,  he  stepped  into  the  tent  and — 

"  Goodness  me  !  " 

There  was  a  huge  hole  in  the  ground  which  almost 
rivalled  the  mine  itself. 

"This  is  a  very  singular  thing,"  said  Mr.   Mole  aloud. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


219 


"Niggers  and  monkeys  are  almost  kindred.  This  young 
Tinker  has  been  seized  with  a  fit  of  imitation.  He's  been 
digging  because  I  have  been  digging." 

He  drew  nearer. 

The  excavation  which  Tinker  had  so  laboured  at  went 
in  a  slanting  direction  so  as  to  reach,  at  its  bottom,  the 
depths  of  Mr.  Mole's  celebrated  mine. 

This  was  a  very  singular  fact  to  Mr.  Mole. 

"There's  something  in  that,"  muttered  the  old  gold- 
seeker  to  himself.  "Some  deep  villany ;  why,  what  can 
this  be  ? " 

A  pipe. 

An  iron  pipe,  and  fitted  into  the  top  of  it  an  immense 
funnel  which  seemed  to  indicate  that  it  had  been  used  as 
a  water-pipe. 

Mole  staggered  back,  and  looked  about  the  tent,  when 
his  eyes  dropped  on  to  a  big  tub  of  water,  half  sunk  in 
the  ground,  close  by  the  pipe  and  funnel,  but  which  had 
been  momentarily  concealed  from  view  by  a  mound  of 
the  earth  thrown  up  out  of  the  tunnel. 

"There's  something  in  this  more  than  meets  the  eye," 
said  Mr.  Mole,  to  himself.  "That  tub  is  to  supply  the 
water  which  is  poured  down  the  pipe  by  means  of  the 
funnel.  That  is  clear  enough.  But  where  the  deuce 
does  this  water-pipe  lead  to  ?  Where  ?  Unless  into  my 
gold  mine  ?  " 

It  flashed  across  him  at  once. 

And  as  the  trick  dawned  upon  his  startled  imagination, 
he  could  only  find  one  word  in  which  to  express  his  utter 
disgust  and  indignation. 

"  The  little  black  beast !  " 

As  this  epithet  escaped  him,  he  heard  the  voice  of 
Tinker,  shouting — 

"Where  am  de  old  water  mole? " 

"Come  along,  Tinker,"  cried  young  Jack.  "What  a 
long  time  you've  been." 

"De  lubly  Missie  Mole  wouldn't  gib  me  de  Mole's 
fings." 

"  Little  beast,"  muttered  Mole,  under  his  breath,  "  I'll 
'  fings'  you." 

By  this  the  irate  old  gentleman  meant  to  convey  a 
novel  form  of  punishment  which  Tinker  was  very  far 
from  expecting. 


220  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

He  quietly  dipped  a  pail  of  water  from  the  tub  and 
waited. 

Crouched  up  behind  Tinker's  own  tent. 

Holding  Tinker's  own  pail  of  water. 
:  Where  is  Massa  Mole  ?  " 
1  Isn't  he  there  ?  "  demanded  Harry  Girdwood. 
No." 

'  Look  round." 

'  He  ain't  dere,  by  golly,"  said  Tinker.  "And  I'se  got 
such  gollopshus  bewful  close  for  him,  all  dry  and  warm 
— ha,  ooh  !  " 

The  latter  ejaculation  was  elicited  by  the  sudden  dash- 
ing of  the  bucket  of  water  from  behind  the  tent  into  the 
young  darkey's  face. 

"Take  that  and  that,"  cried  Mole,  rushing  out  and 
giving  the  surprised  Tinker  a  vicious  thump  with  the  now 
empty  bucket;  "undermine  me,  will  you?  Flood  my 
property  ?  Make  a  water  mole  of  me,  and  try  to  drown 
me,  will  you  ?  Take  that  and  that. " 

And  at  each  word  he  laid  it  on  pretty  hard. 

Tinker  scrambled  up  when  the  first  surprise  was  over, 
and  bolted  off  to  a  safe  distance. 

"Ugly  ole  man,  with  nasty  legs,"  cried  the  smarting 
Tinker,  taking  a  sight. 

This  aggravated  Mole  again,  and  round  he  went  after 
him  at  a  dashing  rate. 

But  Tinker  was  an  awkward  customer  to  try  on  a  race 
with,  for  he  dodged  and  doubled  in  a  way  that  would 
have  surprised  the  most  active  people. 

He  was  here,  there,  and  everywhere  in  a  jiffey,  bound- 
ing about  like  an  india-rubber  ball. 

Presently  he  was  down. 

"  I  have  you  now  !  "  exclaimed  Mole. 

No  !  Mr.  Mole  had  not  got  Tinker,  for  that  active 
black  youth  nimbly  rolled  aside  and  was  on  his  feet  in  an 
instant. 

Then  he  waited  until  the  old  gentleman  was  close 
upon  him,  and  bolted  off  just  as  the  other  thought  he 
had  him  in  his  clutches. 

At  length  Mr.  Mole,  fairly  pumped  out,  was  obliged  to 
sit  down  and  pant  for  breath 

"You  young  black  viper,"  gasped  Mole,  "I'll  have 
you  tied  up  and  flogged  within  an  inch  of  your  life." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TR  ALIA.  2  2  i 

"  Yah  !  ooh  !  you  turn  old  nigger-hunter,"  jeered  Tinker, 
from  a  safe  distance. 

"  Bring  me  my  dry  clothes,  my  boy." 

Tinker  never  moved. 

"  Do  you  hear,  sir  ? " 

' '  Yes,  sar.     Dis  chile  hear  be  wful,  only  he  don't  come. " 

Threats  being  of  no  avail,  Mr.  Mole  called  for  assist- 
ance to  young  Jack  and  his  companion,  who  stood  near 
enjoying  the  scene. 

'  Bring  me  my  dry  clothes,  Jack,  my  boy." 
'Can't,  sir." 
'  Why  ?  " 
'  They're  wet. " 

'  Why,  you  don't  mean  to  say  that  that  beast  of  a 
boy " 

"Not  a  beast,  sir,"  replied  Jack.  "You  wretted  them 
yourself,  when  you  doused  the  water  over  that  rude 
Tinker." 

"I  shall  catch  the  lumbago  and  tic-doloreux  and 
sciatica,  and  all  the  rest  of  it,"  Mole  answered 

"Yes,  sar,  "grinned  Tinker,  "  you  getde  ticbago,an'de 
asiatica,  an'  all  de  family  of  dem  tic  things." 

"Fiend  !  "  yelled  Mole. 

"Yes,  sar." 

"Devil!  " 

"Yah,  yah  !  dat's  me,  sar,"  responded  Tinker,  cheer- 
fully. 

Mr.  Mole  tried  threats  and  denunciations  until  he  saw 
that  it  was  of  no  avail. 

And  then  he  returned  to  coaxing,  and  in  this  way  was 
happily  more  successful. 

Tinker  was  induced  to  make  a  second  journey  to  the 
house  for  more  garments,  and  so  Mr.  Mole  got  a  dry 

rig-out. 

****** 

"My  opinion  is,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  dubiously,  "that  you 
are  all  in  this  job." 

Young  Jack  and  Harry  Girdwood  protested  their  in- 
nocence ;  but  protested  in  vain. 

"I  wouldn't  believe  you  on  oath,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  "not 
either  of  you,  but  I'll  tell  you  what.  I'll  look  over  it  all 
on  two  conditions." 

"What  are  they,  sir?" 


2-2  JACK  HARK  A  W4Y  A\D  KjS  SON 'S 

"Firstly,  that  you  help  me  undo  the  mischief  you  have 
caused. " 

"And  next?  " 

"That  when  you  have  helped  me  draw  off  the  water, 
you  don't  mention  a  worcr  of  this  to  any  body." 

This  they  willingly  agreed  to. 

They  set  to  work  with  a  will,  and  it  was  a  very  short 
job. 

The  water  sank  into  the  earth  when  they  had  got  a 
bucket  or  two  of  it  out. 

So  that  it  was  all  but  a  matter  of  a  few  hours'  work. 

When  the  mine  was  clear  they  set  to  work  digging 
with  Mr.  Mole,  and  strange  to  relate,  they  had  not  been 
long  at  work  when  they  came  to  some  very  remarkable 
results. 

Young  Jack  was  digging  vigorously  at  a  new  part  on 
the  higher  ground  when  Mr.  Mole  caught  sight  of  some 
thing  glittering  in  the  shovelful  of  earth  that  the  boy  had 
turned  over. 

"  What's  that  ?" 

He  bounced  eagerly  upon  it. 

"  A  nugget !  " 

"Never  !" 

"  It  is,  it  is  !  "  cried  Mr.  Mole,  joyously. 

He  rubbed  off  the  earth  sticking  to  the  metallic  object 
of  his  excitement,  and  then  revealed  the  nugget,  which 
was  of  the  most  curious  shape. 

It  was  a  cone  and  hollow. 

"Why,  bless  me,"  said  the  excitable  mine-owner,  with 
a  puzzled  air  ;  "  it  looks  for  all  the  world  like  an  extin- 
guisher. '' 

The  boys  could  no  longer  contain  themselves. 

A  general  explosion  followed  ;  they  burst  into  a  yell  of 
laughter  that  might  have  been  heard  in  the  settlement 
hard  by. 

Mole  looked  up. 

What  could  it  mean  ? 

A  dreadful  suspicion  flashed  across  his  mind  as  he  fell 
to  rubbing  furiously  at  this  newly-discovered  nugget. 

"It  is,  it  is! "he  cried,  in  despair,  "a  brass  extin- 
guisher. " 

"  Lubly  gold  dat,  sir.  Tinker  glad  to  turn  water 
mole  to  get  such  lubly  gold." 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


223 


' '  You — you — you- 


He  had  exhausted  his  vocabulary  of  abuse,  and  could 
not  think  of  any  name  vile  enough  for  the  black  boy. 

"Bewful,  gollopshus  nugget,  dat  'stinguisher,  Massa 
Mole." 

Mole  groaned. 

He  had  never  said  a  word,  but  scrambled  out  of  the 
diggings  and  went  into  his  tent,  where  the  small  bag  of 
nuggets  was  hidden. 

Dragging  it  out,  he  applied  the  test — it  is  strange  that  he 
should  not  have  thought  of  it  before,  but  he  had  had  no 
suspicions  of  trickery — and  it  all  proved  to  be  like  the 
extinguisher. 

Candlestick  gold,  melted  down  by  Jack  and  Harry. 

His  anguish  on  making  this  discovery  could  only  find 
vent  in  one  word. 

"Sold!" 

He  was. 

"It's  a  robbery,  too, "he  exclaimed  in  his  indignation  ; 
"an  infamous  conspiracy  and  a  robbery — those  boys 
were  in  it.  I'll  have  them  all  trounced — Harkaway  shall 
know  of  it." 

He  paused. 

If  Harkaway  knew  of  it  the  tale  would  fly  all  over  the 
settlement,  and  he  would  not  dare  to  show  his  face  for 
months. 

When  he  reflected,  he  felt  rather  ashamed  of  the  greed 
of  gain  that  he  had  shown  in  his  purchase  of  the  mine. 

He  knew  that  he  had  been  chuckling  over  the  way  in 
which  he  had  got  such  a  grand  bargain  out  of  those  two 
unsophisticated  darkeys,  Sunday  and  Monday — at  least 
he  thought — and  he  knew  that  on  that  ground  he  was  not 
justified  in  making  it  a  ground  of  serious  complaint. 

But  he  could  not  swallow  the  transaction. 
'  Listen  to  me,  you  boys,"  he  said,  severely. 
'  We'se  listening  sar,"  responded  Tinker,  promptly. 
'  I  didn't  speak  to  you,"  retorted  Mr.  Mole  tartly. 
'No,  sar  ;  dis  lubly  child  spoke  to  you,  sar." 
'  Hold  your  tongue." 

'  Bless  my  'art,"  said  Tinker,  "  ain't  Massa  Mole  in  a 
immense  cantankerous  big  temper?  Yah,  Tinker  run 
and  fetch  some  rum  to  mix  wid  the  water  Massa  Mole 
swallowed,  yah,  yah  !  " 


224  JACK  II ARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SO  A*  'S 

"  You  have  been  joining  in  a  swindle,"  said  Mr.  Mole, 
not  deigning  to  notice  the  irrepressible  Tinker.  "  That'? 
just  what  your  practical  joking  has  led  you  into." 

"  A  swindle  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  But  you  haven't  read  Sunday's  letter." 

"What  letter?" 

"  He  told  me  that  he  had  left  a  letter  for  you  in  the 
tent." 

"My  tent?" 

"Yes." 

Mr.  Mole  ran  back  to  the  tent  and  looked  eagerly  about 
him. 

"There  it  is." 

Yes,  there  it  was  ;  a  big  white  paper,  pinned  with  a 
wooden  skewer  to  the  canvas  wall  of  the  tent  in  a  prom- 
inent place  enough,  but  one  which  had  hitherto  escaped 
Mr.  Mole's  attention. 

"DEAR  BRUDDER  MOLE, — 

"You  wanted  to  buy  a  gold  mine  for  nuffin  or  there- 
about, and  so  you  was  soldyesself.  I  carn'trob  my  own 
relashin,  an'  so  I  return  your  money,  less  the  price  of  the 
candlestick.  An'  we  don't  charge  nuffin  for  the  amusa- 
tion  [probably  the  writer  meant  '  amusement  '•]  that  we 
have  give  you,  brudder  Mole,  nor  nuffin  for  this  bevvful 
moral  lesson  agin  greed  of  gold.  So  no  more  jes'  at 
presenk  from  your  own  brudder, 

"  CESAR  HANNIBAL  A.  JEX, 
"Common  known  as  SUNDAY." 

"  Done  for  !"  groaned  Mole,  as  he  concluded  this  sin- 
gular composition. 

"Yes,  sar,  done  brown,  not  black,  sar. " 

Tinker  was  there  at  the  entrance  to  the  tent,  nodding 
and  grinning. 

"Done  for  Massa  Mole,  sar.  Done  for bewful  luscious 
brown.  Yes,  sar." 

Mr.  Mole  used  a  naughty  word,  and  rushed  at  him. 

But  Tinker  was  off. 

And  when  he  got  out  he  saw  young  Jack,  Harry  Gird- 
wood,  and  Tinker,  stepping  out  towards  the  settlement, 
at  a  smart  pace. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


225 


"Ha,  ha,  ha!" 

The  laughter  of  those  mirth-loving  young  practical 
jokers  rang  in  his  ears,  and  caused  him  the  most  lively 
apprehensions. 

"It  will  never  do  to  let  them  carry  that  tale  to  the 
settlement,"  said  Mr.  Mole  ;  "I  shall  never  hear  the  last 
of  it.  I  had  much  better  compromise  the  matter  with 
them.  Join  in  the  laugh  at  my  own  expense.  Ugh  !  " 

That  was  a  pill  to  swallow  ;  but  he  got  it  down  as  best 
he  could,  and  made  up  his  mind  promptly. 

****** 

'  Here  he  comes." 
'Mole?"       • 
'Yes." 

'  Shall  we  run  ? " 

'Yes,  sar, "  responded  Tinker.  "Dis  bewful  infant 
means  to  bolt. " 

"Stop  a  bit,"  said  Harry  Girdwood,  looking  back; 
"  whatever  is  he  after  now  ?  " 

They  turned  round,  and  saw  Mr.  Mole  coming  along 
as  fast  as  he  could  stump  it,  and  waving  a  white  pocket- 
handkerchief  at  them  as  he  came. 

"A  flag  of  truce,  by  the  living  jingo!"  exclaimed 
Jack. 

"So  it  is." 

"He's  afraid  of  the  chaff." 

"  I'se  gwine  !  "  cried  Tinker.      "Me  not  let  him  catch 
dis  nice  infant." 
"Stop,  stop  !  " 

But  Tinker  was  not  to  be  coaxed  into  this. 
He  had  not  got  the  same  faith  in  a  flag  of  truce  as  his 
more  civilised  companions,  and  he  was  already  back  in 
the  settlement  with  Sunday  and  Monday,  while  Mr.  Mole 
came  on  chatting  with  the  two  boys,  making  the  best  of 
his  misfortune. 
25 


226  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

MOLE    LEADS    A    RELIEF    PARTY    IN    SEARCH    OF    OLD    JACK. 

WHEN  the  settlement  was  reached,  there  was  a  discus- 
sion going  forward  which  turned  them  all  from  gay  to 
grave  at  once.  Bad  news  had  arrived  about  the  absent 
friends. 

A  messenger  had  come  in  from  Harkaway,  announcing 
the  unfortunate  death  of  the  brave  Jefferson. 

Sunday  and  Monday  were  holding  a  meeting  with  sev- 
eral of  the  most  trustworthy  of  the  settlers,  and  volun- 
teers were  invited  to  join  a  relief  party. 

Young  Jack  and  his  brave  companion,  Harry,  would 
fain  have  gone  with  the  party,  but  this  could  not  be  en- 
tertained for  a  moment. 

Somebody  must  remain  to  guard  the  settlement,  for  it 
was  just  possible  that  the  bushrangers,  who  were  known 
to  be  very  numerous,  would  discover  the  comparative 
weakness  of  the  place,  if  a  sufficient  guard  were  not 
kept. 

In  that  case,  in  all  probability,  they  would  make  a  de- 
scent upon  them  and  take  them  by  surprise. 

As  Tinker — whose  advice,  although  couched  in  his  own 
peculiar  phraseology,  was  invaluable  now — explained  to 
them,  the  bushrangers  knew  the  country  so  much  better 
than  the  settlers  did,  that  it  would  be  comparatively  easy 
for  Morgan  to  detach  a  party  and  send  them  down  upon 
the  unprotected  people  at  home. 

They  had  plenty  of  men  for  the  service. 

"  Somebody  must  command  here,"  said  Mr.  Mole. 

The  old  gentleman  quite  forgot  his  little  private  griev- 
ances in  this  state  of  affairs. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Harry  Girdwood  ;  "  there  must  be  a 
leader  that  we  can  all  look  up  to." 

"  What  do  you  say  to  Mr.  Mole  ? "  suggested  one  of  the 
men. 

"Not  I,"  returned  Mole;  "I'm  going  after  our  dear 
friends,  to  see  if  I  can  take  one  life  for  poor  Jefferson's." 

"  You  are  going  with  the  volunteers  ? "  said  Harry. 

"Yes." 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


227 


"  You  rm»*t  not,  sir,"  said  young  Jack. 

"  I  shall  1" 

His  voice  and  manner  showed  a  degree  of  firmness  to 
which  they  had  not  been  accustomed. 

And,  indeed,  do  what  they  would  to  move  him,  it  was 
of  no  avail. 

He  was  as  firm  as  a  rock. 

All  his  old  eccentricities  of  character  seemed  to  vanish 
before  the  alarming  state  of  things  which  the  messenger 
of  ill  had  brought  them. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  one  of  the  settlers,  "  who  is  to  be 
named  leader  here  while  you  are  all  away  ? " 

"Let  us  vote." 

"Good." 

"I  propose  that  Jack  Harkaway,  junior,  shall  be  nom- 
inated," said  Mr.  Mole.  "  He's  very  young  for  the  post, 
you  may  say,  but  he  is  a  worthy  son  of  a  worthy  father, 
and  when  not  at  his  monkey  tricks,  he  has  his  head 
screwed  on  the  right  way." 

It  was  put  to  the  vote,  and  carried  unanimously. 

Mr.  Mole  needed  no  better  revenge  than  this  if  he 
could  only  have  thought  of  it,  but  his  mind  was  full  of 
more  serious  matters,  for  the  generous  eulogies  pro- 
nounced by  the  old  gentleman  made  our  hero  feel  very 
uncomfortable  over  his  share  in  their  little  wickedness  of 
the  gold-mine  hoax. 


"And  now  we're  off,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  shouldering  his 
rifle. 

"Already?" 

"No  time  like  the  present,"  replied  the  old  gentleman  ; 
"  besides,  who  knows  what  is  going  on  now  ?  Who  can 
say  what  sort  of  a  fix  our  dear  boys  are  in  ?  " 

"On  we  go,"  said  the  volunteers,  eagerly. 

"Keep  a  careful  watch,  Jack." 

"I  will,  sir." 

"Mind  your  sentries  are  posted  everywhere,  and  fre- 
quently relieved." 

"Trust  me,  sir." 

"I  do,  my  boy,  I  do,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  shaking  his 
hand  warmly.  "God  bless  you.  Right  about  face, 
quick — march  !  " 


228  JACK  HA  RKA  WAY  AND  HIS  SOWS 

And  off  they  marched,  the  remaining-  settlers  sending  a 
ringing  cheer  after  them  to  help  them  on  their  way. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

HUNSTON'S  PUNISHMENT — HIS  COMRADES  JUDGE  AND  CONDEMN 
HIM — THE  EXECUTION. 

HUNSTON  was  badly  hurt  in  the  fatal  fight. 

But  not  dead. 

As  he  lay  stretched  upon  the  ground  surrounded  by 
the  dead  and  dying,  he  dare  not  move  hand  or  foot  lest 
they  should  revenge  upon  him  the  death  of  Jefferson. 

But  when  the  triumphant  enemy  had  moved  a  little 
way  off  to  pay  the  last  sad  tribute  of  respect  to  their  lion- 
hearted  dead,  Hunston  contrived  to  crawl  into  the  low 
brushwood  and  hide  himself. 

Here  he  lay,  a  prey  to  the  most  violent  anguish  of  his 
wound,  and  devoured  by  fever. 

He  would  have  given  any  thing  for  one  drop  of  water. 

Hour  after  hour,  he  lay  there  parched — choking. 

And  when  some  hours  had  thus  gone  by,  his  sufferings, 
instead  of  diminishing,  were  terribly  increased  by  the 
anguish  of  his  arm. 

The  mechanical  limb  seemed  like  a  ton  weight  dragging 
upon  him. 

And  up  that  shoulder  shot  sharp  burning  pain  that 
made  him  cry  out  in  spite  of  himself,  so  cruelly  poignant 
were  his  sufferings. 

He  tried  to  free  himself  from  the  arm,  but  vainly. 

Whether  it  was  that  in  his  agony  he  did  not  go  to  work 
in  the  right  way,  or  whether  from  weakness  or  the  con- 
fined space  in  which  he  lay  concealed,  he  could  not  move  it. 

The  old  superstitious  feeling  came  back. 

He  felt  that  the  murdered  Emmerson's  legacy  of  hate 
was  at  last  dragging  him  down. 

"It's  all  over  now,"  muttered  the  guilty  man, 
hoarsely;  "all  over,  and  Emmerson  will  not  be  de- 
ceived ;  he  must  have  his  hand  in  my  last  agonies.  Oh, 
if  I  could  but  drag  it  off — ugh  !  " 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


229 


A  fearful  groan  escaped  him,   and  he  sank  back  half 


He  remained  in  a  state  of  semi-stupor  for  half  an  hour 
or  more,  and  as  his  consciousness  came  back,  his  pains 
returned  with  more  than  their  former  force. 

"I  was  a  fool  to  hide  away,"  he  murmured.  "If  I 
had  remained  in  sight,  they  would  have  finished  me  off, 
and  I  shouldn't  be  now  dying  a  death  of  torture.  Oh, 
that  someone  would  come  and  put  the  finishing  stroke 
to  me  now." 

Barely  were  the  words  uttered  when  he  heard  the 
sound  of  voices  near  at  hand.  Familiar  voices,  too. 

'  '  There's  the  spot,  Captain  Morgan  ;  and  see  here, 
captain." 

It  was  one  of  the  men  who  had  taken  part  in  the  late 
encounter  with  Harkaway  and  his  party. 

The  only  one  who  had  got  off  comparatively  free. 

This  man  had  fled  in  good  time,  and  coming  by  acci- 
dent across  Captain  Morgan,  had  related  the  fact  in  the 
most  favourable  light  for  himself. 

He  had  run  away,  according  to  his  own  account, 
simply  because  he  was  not  sure  whether  Hunston  was 
acting  unaer  orders  or  not. 

This  hit  Captain  Morgan  on  his  tender  side. 

He  was  a  strict  disciplinarian,  and  most  jealous  of  his 
authority  beirtg-  usurped  by  anyone. 

"What!"  eAtlaimed  the  notorious  bushranger,  "six 
men  killed  omiight." 

"Yes,  cap  ta»*,  %>  replied  his  informant,  "six  that  we 
know  of.  " 

"  I  wish  we  had  tmly  got  Master  Hunston  here,"  said 
Morgan,  bitterly  ;  *-he  should  not  have  much  chance  of 
taking  such  a  job  uf»on  himself  again.  " 

Hunston  heard  every  word  of  this  quite  distinctly. 

"  He  can't  have  got  far,  captain." 

"Why  not?" 

"He  was  badly  hurt" 

"So  much  the  better." 

Hunston  winced. 

There  was  not  much  hope  or  comfort  in  this  for 
him. 

"Call  your  men,  Barber,"  said  Morgan,  "and  let  them 
look  after  this  Hunston." 


JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

The  bushranger's  men  were  summoned,  and  then  an 
active  search  for  Hunj.  began. 

They  were  not  long  in  routing  him  out,  and  he  was 
brought  before  Morgan  to  be  tried  and  answer  for  the 
calamity  he  had  caused. 

"Now,"  said  Morgan,  "what  have  you  to  say  for 
yourself?  " 

"Only  this,"  replied  Hunston,  faintly,  for  he  was  ex- 
hausted with  his  sufferings;  "I  have  lost  my  life  in 
righting  in  your  cause." 

"  That's  false,"  retorted  Morgan.  "You  sacrificed  my 
men  in  trying  to  gratify  your  own  private  spite. " 

"And  yours." 

"  My  affairs  had  no  place  in  your  mind,"  said  Morgan, 
sternly,  "and  you  know  it." 

"Haven't  I  paid  the  penalty  for  it?"  said  Hunston. 
"I  am  done  for." 

"Not  yet,  but  you  may  be.  Hark  you,  my  men,  this 
fellow  has  come  amongst  us  to  sacrifice  the  lives  of  our 
comrades  for  his  own  purposes.  He  tried  to  torture  a 
man  to  death.  Now,  Harkaway  is  no  friend  of  ours." 

"No,  no." 

"True,  he  is  not,  but  we  are  men,  not  cannibals  or 
wild  Indians.  We  can  kill  our  enemies  in  fair  fight,  but 
not  bury  them  alive." 

"No,   no." 

"What  shall  we  do  to  him  for  this  ?"  said  Morgan. 
"What  can  we  do  to  him  for  causing  the  death  of  so 
many  of  our  best  and  bravest  comrades  ?  " 

No  answer  came. 

"Speak." 

The  men  were  still  silent,  and  Hunston  began  feebly 
to  hope. 

"Is  hanging  too  good  for  him?  It  is,  but  we  must 
show  him  more  mercy  than  he  would  show  to  his 
enemies.  Who  has  the  rope  ?  " 

One  was  speedily  brought. 

Hunston  said  never  a  word. 

A  sickening  dread  had  fallen  upon  him,  but  he  knew 
well  that  no  appeals  for  mercy  would  be  entertained  by 
these  men.  He  merited  none. 

One  end  of  the  rope  was  cast  over  the  branch  of  a  tree, 
and  a  noose  was  made  in  it. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  23 1 

The  arms  of  the  condemned  man  were  fastened  behind 
nim. 

The  noose  was  placed  round  his  neck. 

A  slight  tremor  of  the  neck  was  perceptible  as  th2 
fatal  cord  touched  his  flesh,  but  he  said  nothing. 

A  dull,  settled  look  was  upon  his  face,  and  strange  to 
relate,  at  this  awful  moment  he  had  quite  forgotten  ths 
present,  and  was  back  in  the  past. 

All  the  events  of  his  old  life  passed  in  rapid  succession 
before  his  eyes,  and  pang  after  pang  of  regret  shot 
through  his  hardened  heart. 

"  Have  you  any  thing  to  say?  "  demanded  the  bush- 
ranger. 

No  reply. 

"Sulky,  are  you?"  said  Morgan,  brutally.  "We'll 
cure  that  for  you.  Pull  away,  lads  !  " 

The  next  moment  Hunston  was  dangling  in  the  air. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

MEETING    WITH     HARKAWAY's    PARTY — THE    SCOUTS    AND     THEIR 

NEWS A  BRUSH   WITH    THE    BUSHRANGERS — HOT    WORK — HOW 

MOLE  KEPT    HIS  ENGAGEMENT. 

MOLE'S  party  made  forced  marches  until  they  came  up 
with  Harkaway  and  the  rest  of  them. 

We  pass  over  the  warm  greetings  which  were  exchanged 
— the  eager  inquiries  that  went  forward  on  either  side. 

"I'm  very  glad  to  see  you,  old  friend,"  said  Harkaway 
to  Mole,  "but  yet  sorry  that  you  should  have  ventured 
out  on  such  an  adventure  as  this." 

"My  dear  Harkaway,"  replied  his  old  tutor,  "Isaac 
Mole  knows  how  to  take  care  of  himself." 

"Of  course." 

"  He  flatters  himself  that  he  never  shrinks  from  work 
when  a  friend  is  in  danger,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  with  a  touch 
of  his  old  dignity,  "but  I  hope  to  show  you,  Harvey, 
that  I  have  yet  some  steam  left  in  me." 

"I  don't  doubt  it  for  a  moment,  sir,"  said  Harvey. 

' '  I'm  afraid  you  do. " 

"No,  no." 


232  JACK  HARKA  IVA  Y  Al\D  HIS  SON 'S 

"You  wouldn't  be  here,  sir,"  said  Harkaway,  "if  you 
hadn't  got  as  much  of  the  old  fire  in  you  as  ever." 

This  gratified  Mr.  Mole  more  than  any  thing. 

While  they  were  engaged  in  this  conversation,  there 
was  a  wild  "  whoop  "  or  cry,  and  a  black  man,  dressed  in 
a  small  pocket-handkerchief  only,  bounded  up  to  the  spot. 

Mr.  Mole  jumped  back. 

"What's  this?" 

"It  is  Wangi,  a  scout  we  have  engaged,"  replied  Hark- 
away.  "He  knows  Tinker,  and  all  about  Morgan  and 
his  men." 

"  Is  he  reliable  ?  "  asked  the  cautious  Mole. 

"Quite." 

Wangi  was  a  bright  specimen  of  an  ugly  race,  and  he 
was  full  of  intelligence. 

They  had  come  across  him  just  at  the  right  moment, 
for  the  bushrangers  had  been  ill-treating  the  unfortunate 
fellow,  and  he  was  smarting  under  a  sense  of  injury,  both 
physical  and  moral. 

He  had  been  so  kindly  used  by  the  Harkaway  party 
that  he  was  eager  to  render  them  every  possible  service. 

"Well,  Wangi,"  said  old  Jack,  "what  have  you  dis- 
covered this  time  ?  " 

"  Morgan  warrior  close,"  replied  the  scout,  pointing  to 
the  direction  he  had  come  from. 

"How  far?" 

"Close,  so  close." 

' '  The  deuce  he  is.  Are  they  in  force — many  warriors 
there  with  him  ?  " 

"Four — six — ten." 

"Ten?" 

"Yes." 

"And  Morgan,  that  makes  eleven." 

"  Morgan  can  count  for  three,"  said  Dick  ;  "he's  quite 
as  good  as  three  of  the  others." 

"Quite." 

"Then  Morgan,  the  great  bushranger,  shall  be  my 
especial  care, "  said  Mole. 

"Oh!" 

Harkaway  thought  it  over  seriously  awhile. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  with  an  air  of  resolution,  "let  us  go 
•on  ;  we  must  exterminate  these  miscreants." 

The  scout  now   explained  that   the   bushrangers   had 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


233 


caught  one  of  the  Harkaway  party,  and  were  about  to 
make  short  work  of  him. 

"You  are  wrong  there,"  replied  Harkaway,  "we  are 
all  here  present. " 

The  scout  explained  that  it  was  at  any  rate  an  enemy 
of  theirs,  and  a  white  man — hence  his  reason  for  presum- 
ing it  to  be  a  member  of  the  Harkaway  expedition. 
'  Perhaps  it  is  one  of  Morgan's  band." 
'  No  friend — no  bushranger,"  said  Wangi,  with  a  posi- 
tive air.      "Catchee  catchee " 

'  Oh,  they  caught  him,  did  they  ?  " 
'Yes.     In  the  bush  ;  all  bad — so  bad." 
'What,  wounded?" 
'Yes." 

'  This  is  very  strange,"  said  Harkaway ;  "  let  us  hurry 
forward. " 

"  There's  some  ugliness  going  forward,"  said  Harvey, 
"and  we  are  bound  to  be  in  it." 

"And  as  for  this  Captain  Morgan,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  with 
a  swagger,  "  let  him  look  out." 

They   hurried   forward,    and  after  a  rapid  march,   the 
scouts  came  running  back  with  warning  gestures. 
'  They  are  hanging  a  man,"  said  one. 
'  Hanging  !  "  ejaculated  Harkaway. 
'Yes." 

;  Do  you  know  their  unfortunate  victim  ?  " 
'No." 

'  Is  Morgan  there  ? " 

'Yes,"  replied  the  scout,       and  a  big,  foreign-looking 
fellow,   who  must  be  the  Italian  brigand   chap  I   have 
heard  so  much  about." 
"Toro?" 
"Yes." 

"Come  along,  then.  We  have  got  our  work  to  do,' 
said  Harkaway,  as  he  loosened  his  pistols  in  his  belt,  so 
as  to  be  ready  for  use. 

They  crept  up  noiselessly  until  they  were  within  twenty 
feet  of  the  bushrangers. 

Then,  upon  a  preconcerted  signal,  they  fired  a  volley 
and  rushed  on. 

The  bushrangers  were  taken  by  surprise. 
Then  a  stampede  occurred,  and  Morgan's  voice  was 
heard  in  fierce  tones. 


234  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON '  J 

"You  white-livered  scoundrels,"  he  cried,  turning 
round  indignantly,  for  he  found  himself  alone  in  the 
open. 

He  saw  the  enemy  coming  down  upon  him  in  all  di- 
rections, and  he  never  attempted  to  move,  but  boldly 
faced  them. 

This  example  was  soon  followed  by  his  men  in  very 
shame  ;  back  they  came  to  the  support  of  their  chief. 

There  was  a  momentary  pause,  and  the  bushranger 
chief  was  the  first  of  his  party  to  break  ground. 

He  cocked  his  rifle  up  to  his  shoulder,  was  just  upon 
the  point  of  delivering  his  fire,  when  Mr.  Mole  stumped 
forward  and  hurled  his  hat  at  him. 

It  served  the  purpose  of  putting  him  off  his  aim. 

Else  Dick  Harvey  would  not  have  lived  to  join  further 
in  the  encounter,  for  the  bushranger's  aim  was  deadly, 
and  he  meant  the  shot  for  Dick.  Now,  while  they  were 
variously  engaged  thus,  Harkaway  rushed  to  the  tree 
where  the  wretched  Hunston  was  dangling,  and  cut 
down  the  body. 

At  the  self-same  instant  a  shot  was  fired  which  entered 
the  right  breast  of  Hunston. 

At  the  same  time,  Captain  Morgan  made  a  rush  at  his 
assailant — Mr.  Mole — and  being  as  active  as  he  was 
vigorous,  he  soon  toppled  the  old  man  over. 

Mole  was  awfully  frightened  ;  but  he  clutched  his  rifle 
tenaciously,  and  swinging  it  round  his  head,  he  brought 
it  down  with  tremendous  force  on  Morgan's  arm. 

The  next  moment  Mole  pulled  the  trigger,  and  then 
fell  backwards. 

"  Bang  !  " 

At  the  self-same  instant,  the  bushranger  chieftain  was 
heard  to  groan,  and  clapping  his  hand  suddenly  to  his 
chest,  he  staggered  and  fell.  Dead  ! 

Yes,  the  redoubtable  bushranger,  Captain  Morgan, 
was  dead. 

And  his  conqueror  was  Isaac  Mole. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRAUA.  235 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
SUNDAY'S  LAST  TUSSLE  WITH  TORO — VICTORY. 

MR.  MOLE  soon  realised  the  fact  of  his  victory,  and  he 
Was  not  slow  to  take  advantage  of  it,  for  he  was  not  the 
man  to  lose  a  bit  of  any  possible  glory  in  such  a  lucky 
stroke. 

"  Behold,  I  have  finished  Captain  Morgan,"  he  cried,  as 
he  got  up  from  the  ground ;  "  now  smite  the  rest  of  the 
villains — smite  'em  hip  and  thigh  ;  charge  1  " 

There  was  a  cheer  from  the  settlers. 

The  bushrangers  turned  tail  on  seeing  their  leader  fall, 
and  fled  precipitately,  just  as  Toro  appeared  on  the  scene. 

"Harvey,"  cried  Harkaway,  holding  Hunston  in  his 
arms,  "look  at  this  wreck  of  a  man.  Wangi."  he  added, 
to  the  scout,  "  bring  me  some  water.  He  ij  not  dead; 
he  has  only  fainted,  I  think." 

With  infinite  pains  they  brought  Hunston  to  conscious- 
ness. 

And  while  Harkaway  held  his  old  enemy  in  his  arms, 
Harvey,  Mole,  and  Monday  followed  the  defeated  bush- 
rangers closely  up. 

A  regular  panic  had  seized  upon  them,  and  they  fled 
madly. 

In  vain  did  Toro  endeavour  to  rally  them. 

The  Italian  bully,  with  all  his  many  defects,  was  no 
coward,  and  he  was  wild  with  rage  and  disappointment 
at  their  ignominious  flight. 

"  Stop,  cowards, "  he  cried,  ' '  stop  ;  stand  and  face  them. " 

On  they  fled,  faster  than  ever. 

"Curse  your  white  livers,"  he  cried;  "go  then  and 
leave  me.  If  you  are  afraid,  I  am  not.  I'll  show  you  how 
a  brave  man  can  face  his  enemies." 

This  heroic  speech  had  no  effect  whatever  upon   them. 

They  increased  their  speed  and  disappeared. 

Toro  launched  one  final  curse  after  them,  and  turned 
to  face  the  foe. 

On  came  the  Englishmen,  and  with  them  the  two 
darkies,  Sunday  and  Monday. 


236  JACK  HARKA  WAY  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"Don't  fire,"  cried  Dick,  who  could  not  help  admiring 
the  boldness  of  the  Italian  ruffian. 

'  We  shan't  take  him  alive,"  said  Monday. 

'  I  know  it,"  returned  Harvey;  "  but  give  him  a  chance 


as 


we  are  four  to  one.     Leave  him  to  me." 


'No,"  cried  Monday  ;   "he  shall  be  my  job." 
'  Never. " 

'  It  shall  be  no  one's  job  but  mine,"  said  Sunday,  with 
a  dash  of  firmness  and  dignity  in  his  tone  that  few  would 
have  expected  to  find  in  this  humble  negro.  "We  are  old 
enemies. '  He  ill-used  me  when  I  was  oppressed,  and  felt 
ground  down  by  the  bondage  of  slavery  ;  but  I  have 
learnt  since  then  to  feel  like  a  man,  and  I  will  see  to  him 
now  ;  so  stand  back." 

And  then,  before  they  could  offer  a  word  of  remon- 
strance or  objection,  the  sturdy  n  egro  rushed  forward,  alone. 

Now  Sunday  had  nothing  better  to  help  him  in  his  en- 
counter with  so  redoubtable  an  antagonist  than  a  short 
dagger  knife  and  a  stout  heart. 

But  he  never  quailed  an  instant. 

"  I'se  come  to  fetch  you,  Toro,"  said  the  darkey,  boldly  ; 
"so  give  in  quietly." 

Toro  made  no  reply. 

The  audacity  annoyed  him. 

So  much  so,  in  fact,  that  he  was  in  a  measure  taken  by 
surprise  when  the  bold  darkey  leaped  upcn  him,  knife  in 
hand. 

"Take  dat." 

Toro  got  it. 

The  knife  had  only  about  five  inches  of  blade,  but  the 
Italian  got  it  all,  up  to  the  very  hilt,  in  his  shoulder. 

With  a  cry  of  rage  and  pain,  the  Italian  closed  with  his 
adversary,  and  grabbed  at  the  knife.  But  Sunday  was 
ready. 

Wrenching  the  knife  away  with  his  whole  force,  he 
severed  the  fingers  of  Toro's  right  hand,  and  jobbed  away 
again  viciously. 

This  second  blow  took  effect  in  his  cheek,  inflicting  a 
hideous-looking  wound,  which  was  not,  however,  so  seri- 
ous as  the  former  blow. 

Toro  shook  himself  free,  and  swinging  round  his  brawny 
arm,  he  dealt  the  luckless  negro  a  terrific  blow  which 
floored  him. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  237 

The  spectators  gave  a  cry  of  alarm  at  this. 

Their  man  was  done  for. 

The  Italian  fell  upon  him  with  his  whole  weight,  half 
crushing  the  luckless  black. 

But  what  Sunday  wanted  in  strength,  was  fully  com- 
pensated for  in  extra  activity,  and  he  grappled  eagerly 
with  the  foe. 

A  desperate  and  fatal  struggle  ensued. 

Over  and  over  they  rolled,  the  Italian  hammering  away 
at  poor  Sunday's  head  in  a  way  that  threatened  to  batter 
his  skull  in. 

But  a  negro's  skull  is  proverbially  thick. 

Sunday's  was  no  exception  to  the  rule. 

He  took  his  punishment  without  any  particular  noise, 
never  attempting  to  dodge  a  blow,  but  giving  his  sole 
attention  to  that  ugly  little  knife. 

And  as  they  rolled  over,  he  stabbed  and  stabbed  again 
with  such  fierce  energy,  that  the  Italian's  huge  body  was 
a  mass  of  wounds. 

At  length,  Toro  seized  the  unhappy  Sunday  with  his 
left  hand,  and  holding  him  momentarily  at  arm's  length, 
he  dealt  him  one  slaughtering  stroke  that  sent  him  lifeless 
to  the  earth. 

But  this  was  Toro's  final  effort,  and  almost  at  the  same 
moment,  he  shook  all  over  and  fell  across  his  lifeless  an- 
tagonist with  a  dull,  hollow  groan. 

Harvey  rushed  forward  to  raise  the  negro,  but  first  they 
had  to  drag  the  giant  Italian  off  him. 

Toro  offered  no  resistance  now. 

He  slid  through  their  hands  to  the  ground,  and  as  he  lay 
on  his  back,  he  looked  towards  the  lifeless  negro  with  a 
sickly  smile  of  triumph,  and  so  his  features  grew  rigid  with 
the  horrible  look  upon  them. 

"He's  dead,"  exclaimed  Mole,  in  an  awe-stricken  tone. 

It  was  true. 

The  redoubtable  brigand  Toro  had  seen  his  last  skir- 
mish. 

He  would  never  trouble  anyone  of  his  enemies  again. 


"Poor  Sunday  !  " 

"  He's  only  swooning." 

"I  fear  not." 


238  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

Sunday  showed  that  the  latter  speaker's  fear  was  justi- 
fied, for  as  the  words  were  spoken,  he  opened  his  eyes. 

"  Whar's  de  big  beast  ?  " 

"  Hush,  Sunday,"  said  Mr.  Mole  ;  "it's  all  over.  The 
wretched,  misguided  creature  is  dead." 

''And  a  good  thing  too — sarve  him  right,"  responded 
Sunday,  heartily. 

He  scrambled  on  to  his  feet,  but  he  was  what  fighting 
men  know  as  "groggy,"  and  could  hardly  keep  up. 

His  head  was  swollen  to  twice  its  ordinary  dimensions, 
and  his  body  was  knocked  into  a  jelly. 

Yet  the  stout-hearted  darkey  never  thought  of  his  own 
hurts  when  he  looked  at  his  stalwart  opponent,  lately  so 
full  of  life  and  vigour,  but  now  stiffening  in  death. 

They  were  old  enemies,  and  Sunday,  although  not 
brutal  by  nature,  could  not  help  chuckling  at  his  victory. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

HUNSTON'S  LAST  MOMENTS — HARKAWAY'S  GENEROSITY — SAD  MEM- 
ORIES  AND  BITTER  REGRETS EMMERSON  IS   AVENGED   AT  LAST 

THE    LEGEND    ON  THE  MECHANICAL  ARM  IS  FULFILLED THE 

DEATH   OF  HUNSTON. 

"  HUNSTON  !  come,  look  up,  man." 

Hunston  opened  his  eyes,  and  looked  wildly  about  him. 

"Where  am  I ? " 

"Here,  with  Harkaway,  your  old  schoolfellow,  Jack. 
Say,  how  is  it  with  you  now  ? " 

Hunston  glanced  upwards,  and  his  eyes  rested  upon 
his  old  schoolfellow  and  college  chum,  the  man  he  had 
so  cruelly  wronged  and  plotted  against  throughout  his 
misspent  career. 

"Is  it  you,  Harkaway,  or  do  my  eyes  deceive  me?" 

"No,"  replied  old  Jack,  sadly,  "I  am  here,  Hunston, 
here  with  you,  to  help  you,  old  fellow,  if  I  can." 

Hunston's  head  was  resting  upon  Harkaway's  knee, 
but  he  could  not  believe  that  this  was  a  proof  of  his  old 
enemy's  forgiveness. 

His  evil  nature  could  not  comprehend  such  nobleness 
of  heart. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  239 

"I  am  in  your  power,  Harkaway,"  he  said,  "but  not 
for  long — no,  not  for  long. " 

"  Hush  !  "  said  old  Jack.  "Don't  talk  like  that  now. 
Tell  me  what  I  can  do  for  you. " 

"Do  for  me ?"  repeated  Hunston.  vaguely.  "Noth- 
ing ;  they  have  done  for  me  without  your  assistance  this 
time.  No,  no,  nothing — Emmerson  has  done  it." 

And  he  pressed  his  shoulder  above  the  mechanical  arm. 

"  Emmerson  ?  "  said  Harkaway. 

"Yes." 

*'  What  mean  you  ?  " 

"His  legacy  has  avenged  him,"  responded  Hunston. 
"  I  feel  the  subtle  poison  coursing  through  my  veins. 
Nothing  could  save  me.  Sooner  or  later  Robert  Emmer- 
son \vas  to  be  avenged.  I  have  escaped  the  knife,  the  bul- 
let, and  the  rope.  I  could  laugh  at  them  all,  for  I  knew  that 
I  bore  a  charmed  life,  and  that  nothing  could  touch  me — 
nothing  but  Robert  Emmerson.  His  cursed  skill  has  done 
for  me,  and  it  has  baffled  the  greatest  doctors  one  and  all 
The  legend  on  the  arm  is  fulfilled.  I  am  paying  the  for- 
feit of  a  life's  misdeeds,  but  not  to  you,  Harkaway,  not 
to  you  ;  it  is  the  poison  in  the  arm." 

The  look  upon  the  wretched  man's  face  told  such  a 
piteous  tale,  that  Harkaway  turned  his  head  away  visibly 
affected. 

"  You  have  got  the  best  of  it,  Harkaway,"  pursued  the 
dying  man,  speaking  now  with  evident  difficulty  ;  "  but 
the  wretched  glory  of  conquering  a  poor  outcast  like  me 
doesn't  belong  to  you  ;  it  belongs  to  the  dead  and  gone — 
to  Robert  Emmerson,  not  to  Morgan,  either.  You'll  look 
after  Morgan,  Harkaway  ? " 

When  one  upon  whom  death  had  already  set  his  seal 
talked  in  this  strain,  it  was  inexpressibly  shocking. 

Harkaway  turned  his  head  away  and  sighed. 

"  You  can  spare  Morgan  your  enmity  now,  Hunston," 
he  said,  seriously. 
'Why?" 

'  He  has  gone  before  you." 
'  Dead  ?  " 

'Yes." 

'You  are  deceiving  me,"  said  the  dying  man,  sharply. 
'  Why  should  I  ?     I  tell  you  Morgan  has  already  paid 
the  forfeit  of  his  crimes.     He  is  dead." 


2 40  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOM  'S 

Hunston's  eyes  sparkled  with  evident  satisfaction  at 
this  intelligence. 

"That's  brave  news,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  cheat  you  all — 
Morgan — you — all — all  but  Emmerson.  He  is  not  to  be 
balked.  I  feel  the  deadly  influence  of  his  work  stealing 
round  my  heart,  and  crushing  the  life  out  of  me  slowly — 
slowly,  but  ah,  how  surely." 

His  voice  grew  fainter  yet,  and  Harkaway  moistened 
his  lips  with  the  water  that  Wangi  had  brought. 

This  gentle  action  evidently  surprised  the  suffering  man. 

"Come,  come,  Hunston,"  said  Harkaway,  in  a  kind 
voice,  "tell  me  if  there  is  any  thing  that  I  can  do  for  you.  ' 

"You  are  mocking  me,"  said  the  dying  man. 

"  Not  I,  by  Heaven  !  " 

"Is  it  indeed  possible,  Harkaway,  that  you  can  forgive 
such  a  guilty  wretch  as  I  am  ? — that  you  can  pardon  all 
the  evil  I  have  wrought  against  you  and  yours  ? " 

"I  can,"  returned  Harkaway  ;   "I  can  and  do,  freely." 

"  Do  you  forgive  my  last  act  of  cruelty  ? " 

"I  do  ;  don't  speak  of  it,"  said  Harkaway,  gently. 

"You  are  the  most  wonderful  of  men,"  faltered  Hun- 
ston, "too  good,  too  noble-minded  for  a  base  nature  like 
mine  to  understand.  Ah,  Harkaway,  what  a  different 
being  I  might  have  been  had  I  been  able  to  resist  my  evil 
instincts  as  a  boy.  Contact  with  you  should  have  elevated 
me,  and  brought  me  to  something  better  than  this.  But 
no,  it  seemed  only  to  tend  to  the  very  opposite  direction. 
The  better  you  were,  the  more  generous  and  forgiving, 
the  viler  and  baser  I  became. 

"Oh,  Jack,  Jack!"  he  exclaimed,  in  bitter  remorse. 
"Oh,  if  I  could  only  wake  up  to  find  that  it  had  all  been 
a  dream  !  But  no,  no,  Jack,  death  is  stealing  round  me 
now,  and  will  not  this  time  be  shaken  away." 

And  then  a  sudden  change  came  over  his  face. 

"Jack,  I  am  thinking  now  of  our  schooldays!  Ah, 
Jack,  if  those  times  could  come  again,  how  different  I 
would  act,  to  you  and  yours  !  " 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  Harkaway. 

"Jack — I  must  call  you  Jack,  now.  Hold  my  head 
higher,  Jack — there." 

His  voice  grew  fainter  and  fainter. 

"Will  your  wife  forgive  me?  "  lie  murmured. 

"Yes,  yes." 


AL>  IshNTURES  IN  A  USTRAL I  A.  241 

"And  your  boy,  and  Dick  Harvey,  and  Mr.   Mole?  " 

"All— all,  willingly,  freely,"  returned  Harkavvay,  much 
affected. 

"Bless  you  for  those  words  of  comfort.  I — pay  my 
debt,"  he  went  on,  speaking  now  with  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty, "  my  debt  to  all." 

Then  after  a  moment's  pause,  he  said,  faintly — 

"Jack,  pray  for  me ;  ask  your  wife,  Emily,  to  pray  for 
me." 

And  with  these  words  upon  his  lips,  his  head  dropped 
upon  Harkaway's  knee,  and  all  was  over. 

Hunston  fell  back  dead  in  his  old  schoolfellow's  arms. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

THE   END  OF  THE    BUSHRANGERS — HOW   TINKER    LED    HIS    PARTY 
TO  A  BLOODLESS  VICTORY — A  SIGNAL  TRIUMPH. 

"  BEHOLD,  all  of  you,  Captain  Morgan  is  dead,  and  it  is  I 
— Mole — that  have  done  the  daring  deed,"  said  Mr.  Mole, 
with  a  self-satisfied  air;  "and  I  feel  comparatively  at 
rest,  having  rid  the  country  of  such  pests." 

"You?  " 

"Yes,  I  alone." 

His  hearers  stared  at  the  cool  audacity  of  the  old  gentle- 
man. 

He  did  not  scruple  to  assume  the  honour,  and  glory  of 
all  that  had  been  done. 

"Yes, "he  added,  complacently,  while  the  rest  stared 
and  waited  for  a  whacker ;  "  I  never  did  a  thing  better 
than  this  job,  perhaps,  and  that  is  saying  some  thing." 

"  Yes,"  added  Harkaway,  drily  "it  is  certainly  saying 
some  thing." 

"It  has  always  been  my  principle,"  said  Mr.  Mole, 
looking  around  him  for  admiration,  "when  I  take  a  job 
in  hand  of  this  kind,  to  finish  it  right  off.  Nip  'em  in  the 
bud,  sirs." 

"  Bravo  !  "  cried  young  Jack. 

"Cut  'em  up  root  and  branch,  no  half  measures." 

"  Hear,  hear  !  " 

While  Mr.  Mole  continued  blowing  his  own  trumpet  in 
16 


2  42  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON  *S 

the  most  brazen  manner,  young  Jack  whispered  a  word 
or  two  to  Tinker. 

The  latter  grinned  and  disappeared. 

"You  mustn't  suppose,"  said  Mole,  with  a  sort  of  de]>- 
recating  smile,  "that  I  think  I  have  done  all  by  sheer 
force  of  arms." 

"Oh,  you  are  too  modest,"  said  old  Jack,  winking  at 
Harvey, 

"Oh,  no." 

"  Well,  now,  that  is  a  very  manly  and  generous  admis- 
sion," said  Dick. 

"Ahem  !  I  know  as  well  as  you  do  that  the  name  of 
Mole  has  gone  for  some  thing,  that  it  lent  a  sort  of  moral 
weight  to  our  expedition.  A  good  leader's  name  is  a  tower 
of  strength.  The  bushrangers  had  their  spies,  and  when 
it  became  known  that  Isaac  Mole  was  in  command,  I 
leave  you  to  guess  how  completely  they  became  demo*  • 
alised. " 

"No  doubt." 

"Oh,  of  course  they  would  for  you,"  said  Harvey. 

"In  fact,  if  I  had  this  job  to  do  again,  I  should  merely 
let  it  go  forth  that  Isaac  Mole  commanded  the  party,  an  I 
then  I  should " 

"  Down  with  old  Mole  !  "  cried  a  strange  voice  from  th  ' 
bush. 

' '  Prepare  your  firearms.  The  bushrangers  are  on  us,  ' 
shouted  young  Jack. 

A  couple  of  rifle-shots  followed. 

Then  came  a  great  shout. 

"Down  with  Mole!" 

"  Oh,  Lor' !  oh  Lor' !  "  exclaimed  poor  old  Mole  ; 
"where  shall  I  get  to?" 

It  was  royal  fun  to  see  him  stump  away  ;  in  fact,  you 
could  hardly  understand  how  he  got  over  the  ground  at 
such  a  rate. 

And  as  he  disappeared,  Tinker  came  out  of  the  cover, 
followed  by  Sunday  and  Monday. 

"Gollupshus  great  big  lark  !"  said  Tinker,  holding  his 
sides,  and  grinning. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

"But  the  point  is,"  said  Rook,  "  that  the  bushrangers 
are  by  no  means  exterminated." 

"Aye,  but  the  one  or  two  that  yet  remain  are  dispersed, 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TRALIA .  2  43 

will  never  gather  together  again  aboutthis  part  of  the 
country." 

"There's  the  rub,"  said  Rook.  "  I'm  told  that  five  of 
t?ae  leading  men  after  Captain  Morgan  are  encamped  up 
at  the  creek  yonder." 

' '  Never  !  " 

"It  is  true." 

"  Do  you  think  they  mean  mischief,  then  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly  ;  they  are  by  no  means  so  demoralised 
?s  Mr.  Mole  would  make  us  believe." 

"Me  know  whar  to  find  de  beggars,  sar,"  said  Tinker. 

"You  do?" 

"  And  could  lead  us  there  ? " 

"Believe  yar,  my  boy,"  responded  Tinker  ;  "walk  up 
•.ehind  'em,  too  ;  take  immense  dam  big  salt  box,  sar,  and 
put  a  pinch  on  dere  bressed  tails. " 

"Bravo!" 

"Let  us  keep  this  job  to  ourselves,"  said  Harvey,  "  or 
xe  shall  alarm  the  ladies  again." 

"Good." 

"  Who  shall  go  ?" 

"You  and  I,"  said  Harkaway,  "  and  Rook." 

"Yes,"  said  the  latter,  eagerly,  "  I'll  go." 

"An'  me  too,"  said  Tinker,  "me  go  and  put  all  the  lot 
5.\  a  bag — a  bressed  big  gollopshus  bag,  sar." 

"Come  along  then,  off  we  go,"  said  Harkaway,  who 
was  all  impatience  to  get  to  work,  as  usual,  when  once 
Ihe  thing  was  decided  upon. 

Tinker  led  the  way,  and  the  three  combatant  members 
of  the  expedition  followed. 

Each  man  had  his  rifle  slung  behind  his  back. 

In  their  hands  they  carried  each  a  brace  of  pistols. 

It  was  necessary,  for  the  sake  of  precaution,  to  reach 
the  creek  by  a  circuitous  route,  and  this  involved  a  con- 
siderable loss  of  time. 

But  the  black  boy  Tinker  proved  to  be  a  model  scout. 

Every  inch  of  the  ground  was  known  to  him. 

After  a  long  march  their  patience  was  rewarded. 

Tinker,  who  was  marching  on  about  twenty  yards 
ahead  of  the  party,  turned  round  to  them,  and  pointing 
to  a  thicket  at  no  great  distance,  motioned  to  them,  invit- 
»ng  the  greatest  caution  and  prudence. 

The  critical  moment  was  rapidly  approaching. 


2  44  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

As  they  drew  near  the  thicket,  they  saw  the  grey  smoke 
curling  up  above  the  shrubs,  and  they  understood  now 
that  they  must  prepare  for  some  stiffish  work. 

It  proved  to  be  less  serious  than  they  anticipated. 

They  opened  out,  and  each  of  them  took  up  a  separate 
post,  and  in  this  way  they  advanced  and  pushed  their 
way  through  the  bushes. 

The  bushrangers,  who  were  five  in  number,  were,  as 
might  be  seen  at  a  glance,  worn  out  by  the  recent  fatigues 
which  they  had  undergone. 

Four  of  them  were  stretched  upon  the  ground  around 
the  wood  fire,  wrapped  in  their  rugs,  asleep. 

The  fifth,  who  was  mounting  guard,  had  been  over- 
taken also  by  slumber,  and  was  resting  in  a  state  of  semi- 
drowsiness  upon  his  rifle. 

Tinker  made  this  man  his  mark  at  once. 

Creeping  like  a  tiger  up  behind  him,  he  dealt  him  one 
alarming  blow  with  a  heavy  wooden  club  upon  the  back 
of  the  head. 

And  down  dropped  this  untrustworthy  sentinel  like  a 
log. 

Tinker  leaped  upon  him. 

He  had  a  rope  all  ready  to  hand  with  a  running  noose 
in  it,  and  this  he  slipped  over  his  shoulders,  fixing  his 
hands  down  his  sides  immovably. 

The  noise,  slight  as  it  was,  sufficed  to  arouse  the  sleep- 
ers, and  when  they  opened  their  eyes,  they  found  them- 
selves faced  by  three  armed  men. 

Three  desperate  men,  each  holding  a  brace  of  pistols. 

1 '  Move  a  step,  either  of  you, "  said  Rook,  ' '  and  we  fire. " 

"Wake  up,  men  ;  help  !  " 

"Another  word,  a  sound,  and  it  is  your  last  utterance." 

Now  the  bushrangers  were  not  wanting  in  courage,  but 
they  were  completely  overmatched. 

"  Yield  !  " 

"  Never  to  you  !  "  cried  the  man. 

"Hold  your  tongue,  Morris,"  said  Rook,  unceremoni- 
ously. "  You  have  no  chance,  and  you  had  better  take 
it  quietly." 

The  bushranger  never  uttered  another  word. 

He  was  completely  bewildered. 

"Tinker." 

"Yes,  sar." 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


245 


"Bring  a  rope." 

•'Yes,  sar." 

"Tie  him  up." 

"Yes,  sar,  I  will,  sar;  dis  chile  do  it  awful  double 
quick." 

He  dropped  down  upon  the  bushranger  Morris,  and  in 
spite  of  his  resistance,  succeeded  in  fastening  his  arms  as 
securely  as  he  had  done  those  of  the  unfortunate  sentry. 

To  secure  the  others  was  the  work  of  a  very  few  minutes. 

What  could  they  do  ? 

Nothing. 

They  were  surprised — utterly — hopelessly  taken  at  a 
disadvantage. 

"Now  get  up  and  march,"  said  Harkaway. 

They  obeyed. 

To  hesitate  was  dangerous,  seeing  that  they  were  faced 
by  three  armed  men,  not  to  speak  of  Tinker,  who,  in  his 
excitement,  was  really  no  mean  adversary. 

"Wake  up  you  warmint,"  said  Tinker,  giving  the  in- 
sensible sentry  a  kick. 

As  this  failed  to  arouse  him,  the  dose  was  repeated  until 
the  man  was  brought  round. 

And  when  they  were  all  upon  their  feet,  Tinker  started 
them  by  prodding  them  on  their  respective  rears  with  a 
wooden  spear  he  carried. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  us  ?"  demanded  the 
bushranger,  Morris,  sullenly. 

"  Put  you  in  a  place  of  safety,"  responded  Rook. 

"  What  !"  echoed  Morris,  recognizing  the  speaker  for 
the  first  time,  "  is  it  you,  Rook?  " 

"As  you  see." 

"Traitor!" 

"That's  false,"  said  Rook;  "I  am  no  traitor.  I  was 
never  one  of  you.  I  was  forced  into  playing  a  loathsome 
part.  Morgan  turned  traitor  to  me.  If  ever  I  owed  him 
and  you  any  allegiance,  that  freed  me." 

"  Where  would  you  take  us  ?  " 

"Where  you  will  be  unable  to  do  any  further  mischief." 

"Then  we  had  better  fight  it  out  here,  comrades,"  said 
the  bushranger,  suddenly,  facing  round. 

"  No  ;  you  had  not,"  retorted  Rook.  "Not  if  you  are 
prudent.  Your  lives  are  safe.  Resist,  and  they  will  not 
be  so  long." 


246  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOWS 

"Curse  your  "  luck,  growled  one  of  the  prisoners  ;  "we 
have  no  help  for  it." 

"  None." 

"March,"  said  Harvey  ;  "I'm  getting  tired  of  this." 

"Spikey,"  cried  Tinker,  inserting  about  an  inch  of  his 
7/ooden  spear  in  the  sentry's  back. 

"Oho!" 

"March." 

And  march  they  did. 


CHAPTER   XL. 

SURPRISE — THE      BUSHRANGER'S      WIFE — RELEASE      OF      THE 

PRISONERS ROOK    AND     TINKER     FIND    THEMSELVES    IN    GREAT 

PERIL. 

THE  town  in  which  the  sheriff  of  the  county  lived  was 
^bout  fifteen  miles  from  the  spot  where  the  lawless  re- 
mainder of  Morgan's  demoralised  band  had  been  captured. 

There  was  a  lock-up  there,  and  a  magistrate  could  ex- 
amine them  before  they  were  sent  to  prison. 

All  the  bushrangers  had  their  arms  bound  behind  their 
backs. 

As  they  marched  silently  along,  they  looked  very  crest- 
fallen and  woebegone. 

Jack  wanted  to  get  back  to  the  settlement  without 
delay. 

He  did  not  see  the  use  of  taking  the  captives  with  him. 

They  would  have  to  go,  ultimately,  to  the  sheriff,  who 
was  an  energetic  man  named  Hardrock. 

The  town  which  he  graced  with  his  presence  was  called 
Masdon. 

He  was  extremely  popular,  and  a  terror  to  evildoers, 
though  the  bushrangers  had  long  held  him  at  defiance. 

Through  coming  frequently  in  contact  with  him,  Jack 
knew  him  well,  and  had  every  confidence  in  him. 

After  marching  a  few  miles,  Jack  called  a  halt. 

He  and  his  party  were  provided  with  water-bottles  and 
sandwich  cases. 

They  felt  the  necessity  for  some  refreshment  and  a  brief 
rest 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TRALIA.  247 

The  bushrangers  were  permitted  to  sit  down  under  the 
shade  of  some  gum-trees. 

"  I  must  have  a  bite  of  something/'  said  Jack,  "  and  a 
drink  of  water,  for  I'm  parched. " 

"Same  here, "  replied  Harvey.  "The  sun's  warm  to- 
day, and  no  mistake  !  " 

"Golly  !  "  exclaimed  Tinker.  "That  am  right.  It  hot 
enough  to  scorch  the  tail  off  of  a  brass  kangaroo." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  it  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

"Dat's  my  opinion,  sar." 

"Next  time,  when  you've  got  one,  be  kind  enough  to 
keep  it  to  yourself." 

"Dey  won't  keep,  sar,  unless  I  put  dem  on  ice,  and  I 
don't  know  where  we're  going  to  find  dat  perishable  com- 
modity in  dis  here  bush." 

"  You  know  a  lot,  don't  you  ?  " 

"Been  dragged  up  somehow,  sar,"  replied  Tinker. 

"Don't  you  think,  Rook,"  said  Jack,  "  that  you  and  the 
boy  could  take  the  prisoners  up  to  the  sheriff  without 
Harvey  and  I  ?  " 

"Certainly.     Why  not?" 

"You  are  acquainted  with  the  way  to  Masdon?  " 

"As  well  as  you  are,  sir." 

"And,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  you  have  met  Mr.  Hard- 
rock,  the  sheriff  of  the  county  ?  " 

"Once  or  twice." 

"Very  well,"  continued  Harkaway.  "  You  can  deliver 
these  rangers  into  his  custody." 

"  With  pleasure,"  replied  Rook. 

"He  will  understand  what  to  do  with  them." 

"Put  them  in  the  lock-up,  I  guess." 

"Tell  him  they  are  the  remnant  of  Morgan's  band, 
captured  by  me." 

"They  are  as  harmless  as  dried  snakes,  sir,"  said  Rook. 
"I  and  Tinker  can  do  the  business." 

"Up  to  de  knocker,"  chimed  in  Tinker. 

"  That  settles  it,"  answered  Harkaway.  "  Harvey  and 
I  will  return  to  the  settlement." 

"As  you  please,  sir." 

It  was  arranged  that  Jack  and  Harvey  should  go  back 
pJone  to  assure  their  friends  of  their  success. 

Rook  and  Tinker  were  to  conduct  the  defeated  rangers 
ro  the  town  of  Masdon. 


2  48  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOWS 

Here  they  would  deliver  them  to  Mr.  Hardrock,  the 
sheriff. 

Their  doom  was  the  gallows. 

Well  had  they  merited  the  fate  in  store  for  them. 

After  partaking  of  the  refreshment  they  had  brought 
with  them,  the  party  separated. 

Harkaway  and  Harvey  walked  back  to  the  settlement. 

Making  the  rangers  rise,  Rook  and  Tinker  started  them 
on  the  road  to  Masdon. 

They  imagined  that  they  had  an  easy  task  before  them. 

In  this  conjecture  they  found  that  they  were  mistaken. 

Morris,  who  had  been  Morgan's  lieutenant  and  fast 
friend  for  years,  did  not  appear  so  dejected  as  his  com- 
panions. 

"Mister,  "he  said,  addressing  Rook,  "  would  you  be 
charitable  enough  to  give  a  chap  who's  down  on  his  luck 
a  chew  of  terbacker  ?  " 

"Like  a  shot,"  replied  Rook,  good-naturedly.  "Why 
didn't  you  ask  before  ?  " 

"  Didn't  like  to." 

"  Here  you  are." 

Rook  took  a  piece  of  navy  plug  from  his  vest  pocket,  and 
breaking  a  bit  off,  put  it  in  Morris's  mouth. 

He  began  to  chew  it  vigorously. 

"  Bet  your  boots,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  won't  forget  you 
for  this,  if  ever  you  should  be  placed  in  a  hole  and  I'm  by." 

"'Tain't  my  fault  you're  going  to  be  landed." 

"I  know  that ;  it's  that  infernal  Harkaway  that's  got 
his  knife  in  us,"  said  Morris. 

"  Don't  call  him  names." 

"  I  feel  bad  over  it."' 

"Mr.  Harkaway  is  a  fine  fellow,  and  every  inch  a 
gentleman." 

"  He's  been  too  clever  for  us." 

"Hasn't  he  had  enough  to  put  up  with  from  your 
gang  ? "  asked  Rook. 

"  Maybe  ;  but  we  haven't  got  the  steel  yet.  The  key 
isn't  turned  on  us." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Morgan  had  a  wife  and  a  brother." 

"Sol  have  heard.     What  of  that  ?  " 

"Mrs.  Morgan  is  a  regular  amazon.  She  used  to  work 
with  us,  and  we  called  her  Fighting  Sue.  She  had  a 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


249 


baby,  and  Morgan  built  her  a  house  near  Masdon,  in  the 
woods.  Morgan's  brother  Bob  lived  with  her,  plretending 
to  cut  wood  and  sell  it ;  but  Morgan  took  his  booty  to 
the  house. " 

"Aren't  you  giving  him  and  her  away  ?  "  queried  Rook. 

"That  don't  matter,"  replied  Morris. 

"How's  that?," 

"We've  had  private  information  that  Fighting  Sue  and 
Bob  are  coming  on  the  warpath  to  avenge  the  death  of 
the  king  of  the  bushrangers." 

"Is  that  so?" 

"Fact.  I  don't  mind  telling  you.  I'll  bet  they'll  bring 
Borne  of  the  boys  with  them.  They  know  the  road. 
We  aren't  landed  yet,  by  a  long  way." 

Rook  looked  grave. 

So  did  Tinker. 

There  might  be  trouble  yet  before  they  reached  the 
town  of  Masdon. 

Both  held  their  rifles  tighter,  and  prepared  for  a  pos- 
sible encounter. 

"Yes,"  continued  Morris,  as  if  talking  to  himself,  "I 
ain't  lost  all  hope  yet. " 

"Shut  your  mouth,  you  fool  1"  said  one  of  his  com- 
panions, named  Daggersberg. 

He  was  reckoned  the  most  bloodthirsty  member  of  the 
band. 

There  was  no  act  of  cruelty,  however  atrocious,  that 
he  would  hesitate  to  commit 

When  robbing  a  house,  after  killing  the  father,  he 
would  take  a  baby  from  its  mother's  arms,  and  throw  it 
up  in  the  air,  when  he  would  empty  his  revolver  at  the 
hapless,  innocent  infant. 

All  who  knew  him  called  him  the  Terror. 

"I  ain't  saying  nothing  out  of  the  way,"  replied 
Morris. 

"You're  talking  private  business,  and  if  I  had  my 
hands  free,  I'd  give  you  a  lick  in  the  mouth." 

"  It  would  take  a  better  man  than  you  to  do  that." 

"Perhaps  some  day  I'll  make  you  eat  those  words," 
retorted  Daggersberg. 

Morris  held  his  peace. 

He  was  induced  to  do  so  by  a  peculiar  sound  in  front 
of  him. 


3  5  o  JACK  HARK  A  WAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

It  was  the  cry  or  note  of  a  bird,  only  found  on  the 
Australian  continent. 

This  bird  is  known  as  the  laughing  jackass  to  the 
settlers. 

There  was  nothing  extraordinary  to  Rook  and  Tinker 
in  the  cry. 

But  it  had  a  peculiar  significance  for  Morris  and  his 
captive  friends. 

Long  ago,  Morgan  had  adopted  this  call  as  a  secret  anc* 
private  signal  and  warning  for  the  bushrangers. 

If  they  were  in  any  trouble,  or  lost  in  the  bush,  o» 
wanted  help,  or  wished  to  communicate  with  one  another, 
this  was  their  call. 

It  was  not  difficult  to  learn. 

Morris  could  imitate  the  bird  to  perfection. 

Again  the  weird,  startling  note  was  heard. 

This  time  Morris  answered  it,  his  heart  beating  wildly. 

He  felt  sure  that  there  was  some  meaning  attached  to  it. 

Ardently  he  hoped  that  the  wife  of  the  dead  bushranger 
was  not  far  off. 

Fighting  Sue  would  not  come  alone. 

She  was  sure  to  bring  some  reliable  fighting  men  with 
her. 

Scarcely  had  the  cry  escaped  his  lips,  than  a  reply  was 
heard. 

There  was  a  bend  in  the  road. 

Rook  and  Tinker  were  ahead  of  the  prisoners,  and  as 
they  turned  the  corner  they  halted. 

Though  they  held  their  rifles  cocked,  ready  for  use,  in 
their  hands,  they  did  not  attempt  to  discharge  them. 

Right  in  front  of  them  was  a  woman  on  a  black  horse, 
which  she  bestrode  like  a  man. 

She  wore  moleskin  trousers,  also  masculine  fashion,  a 
loose  tunic,  confined  at  the  waist  by  a  girdle,  and  a  broad- 
brimmed  felt  hat. 

This  was  Fighting  Sue,  the  widow  of  Morgan,  the 
dreaded  bushranger  whom  Harkaway  had  brought  to  his 
doom. 

She  was  tall,  stout,  stern,  and  hard-featured,  but  not 
wholly  devoid  of  good  looks. 

At  one  period  of  her  life,  when  younger,  and  before 
care  and  trouble  fell  upon  her,  she  had  no  doubt  been 
handsome. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


251 


She  had  let  the  bridle-rein  fall  on  the  horse's  neck,  the 
inimal  standing  quiet  in  the  middle  of  the  road. 

In  each  hand  she  held  a  seven- chambered  revolver, 
with  which  she  covered  both  Rook  and  Tinker. 

She  could  have  killed  either  of  them  at  a  moment's 
notice. 

Behind  her,  on  foot,  were  grouped  six  strong,  rough- 
looking  men,  who  were  armed  with  Winchester  rifles. 

In  their  belts  they  had  stuck  both  knives  and  daggers. 

They  had  their  guns  at  the  shoulder,  and  only  awaited 
their  mistress's  command  to  fire. 

"  Hold  up  your  arms  !  "  shouted  the  amazon.  "I  am 
Morgan's  widow.  Surrender,  or  you  are  dead  men  !  " 

Rook  and  Tinker  had  no  option  but  to  comply. 

They  had  been  completely  taken  by  surprise,  owing  to 
the  sudden  appearance  of  the  party  in  front  of  them. 

The  bushrangers  just  behind  Rook  and  Tinker  recog- 
nised friends  among  those  supporting  Fighting  Sue. 

With  a  dejected  air,  Rook  let  his  gun  fall  to  the  ground 
and  threw  up  his  arms. 

This  example  of  total  and  unconditional  surrender  was 
immediately  followed  by  Tinker. 

The  black  boy  could  have  cried  with  vexation. 

But  there  was  no  help  for  it. 

In  a  moment  the  six  men  who  formed  the  band  of 
Fighting  Sue  advanced. 

Two  of  them  picked  up  the  rifles  that  had  been  dropped, 
and  also  deprived  Rook  and  Tinker  of  their  pistols. 

They  were  then  not  bound,  but  handcuffed  together, 
like  malefactors  of  the  deepest  dye. 

The  men  had  made  a  raid  on  a  police-station  in  a  town 
they  had  passed,  and  the  handcuffs  had  been  stolen  there- 
from. 

No  time  was  lost  by  the  others  in  releasing  their 
friends. 

Then   there   was   a   general   and   cordial   shaking  of 
hands. 

Bob  Morgan,  brother  of  the  deceased  bushranger,  greeted 
Morris,  and  Daggersberg  clasped  the  not  very  delicate 
hand  of  Fighting  Sue. 

"We  did  not  expect  to  meet  you  so  soon,"  said  Sue, 
"nor  did  we  think  to  see  you  in  custody." 

"Your  messenger   came  to  us   in   the   bush,"  replied 


2S  2  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOWS 

Daggersberg.    "and   reported  that  you  were  coming  to 
join  us  with  half-a-dozen  good  men  and  true. " 

"Quite  correct.  I  have  lost  no  time  since  my  poor 
husband's  death." 

"  You  will  avenge  it !  " 

"Will  I  not,  by  heaven  !  "  exclaimed  the  woman,  pas- 
sionately. "  That  is  why  I  am  here." 

"We  will  nobly  support  you." 

"Of  that  I  am  sure.  I  have  always  heard  Morgan 
speak  most  highly  of  you. " 

"  If  there  was  a  post  of  danger  to  be  filled,  he  usually 
assigned  it  to  me." 

"  How  do  I  come  to  find  you  prisoners  ? "  asked  Fight- 
ing Sue.  "I  was  making  for  your  camp." 

"It  is  broken  up,"  answered  Daggersberg. 

' '  How — by  whom  ? " 

"That  meddlesome  fellow,  Harkaway,  pounced  upor, 
us,  and  before  we  could  defend  ourselves,  we  were  capt- 
ured. " 

"  Harkaway  again  !  He  has  been  our  curse,"  she  said, 
bitterly.  "  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"He  and  his  friends,  with  the  exception  of  the  two 
who  had  us  in  charge,  have  gone  back  to  the  settlement 
lately  made  called  Harkawayville. " 

"I  have  heard  of  it  as  a  thriving  place,"  exclaimed 
Sue,  adding,  "Are  these  men,  the  white  and  the  black, 
of  note  ? " 

"They  seem  to  be  thought  a  lot  of,"  replied  Daggers- 
berg. 

"Keep  a  sharp  watch  on  them.  I  give  them  into 
your  care  for  the  present. " 

"  No  fear  of  me  neglecting  them." 

Morris  and  the  other  two  men  now  came  up  to  and 
thanked  Mrs.  Morgan  for  her  timely  succour. 

Daggersberg  fell  back  and  placed  himself  in  front  of 
the  manacled  captives. 

"  It's  a  queer  world,"  remarked  Rook. 

"I  reckon  the  world  won't  trouble  you  much  longer," 
replied  Daggersberg,  brutally. 

"  If  so,  I  can't  help  it ;  but  if  we  fall,  our  death  will  be 
fully  avenged." 

"  We  chaps  will  run  the  risk  of  that  You  are  counting 
on  your  pal,  Harkaway  ?  " 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


253 


"Of  course  I  am,"  said  Rook,  "and  he's  thoroughly 
reliable,  too.  If  we  don't  turn  up  at  the  settlement  be- 
tween this  and  to-morrow  morning,  there'll  be  a  row." 

"You  won't,  then,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  Have  you  heard  what's  to  be  done  with  us  ? " 

"Take  that,  and  don't  presume  to  ask  any  more  ques- 
tions," cried  Daggersberg. 

As  he  spoke,  he  struck  Rook  a  blow  on  the  mouth, 
which  loosened  his  teeth  and  made  his  lips  bleed. 

Presently  the  order  was  given  to  march. 

Fighting  Sue,  Bob  Morgan,  and  Morris  had  been  hold- 
ing a  consultation. 

It  was  decided  to  enter  the  bush,  and  as  soon  as  they 
came  to  a  stream,  to  form  a  new  camp. 

The  old  one  was  to  be  finally  abandoned. 

The  widow  intended  to  follow  her  husband's  lawless 
profession. 

And,  above  all  things,  to  avenge  his  death  upon  Hark- 
away  and  those  who  were  associated  with  him. 

Two  men  were  detailed  to  guard  the  captives,  one  be- 
ing Daggersberg. 

After  leaving  the  high-road  and  entering  the  bush,  they 
did  not  proceed  more  than  three  miles  before  they  came 
to  the  very  spot  they  required. 

It  was  a  piece  of  ground  sheltered  by  scrub  and  trees, 
through  which  ran  a  stream. 

A  halt  was  called,  a  fire  was  lighted,  some  dampers 
made,  and  a  portion  of  a  kangaroo,  which  Morris  had 
shot,  was  nicely  broiled. 

Stakes  and  boughs  were  cut ;  the  stakes  driven  into  the 
ground,  the  boughs  interlaced  to  make  walls  ;  grass  was 
pulled  to  fill  up  the  interstices ;  a  roof  was  formed,  and 
soon  each  man  had  a  hut  to  sleep  in. 

A  superior  one  was  erected  for  the  widow. 

When  the  shades  of  night  began  to  fall,  and  the  air 
grew  cooler,  they  piled  more  branches  on  the  fire  and  sat 
round  it. 

The  prisoners,  over  whom  Daggersberg  watched,  were 
the  subject  of  their  conversation. 

Mrs.  Morgan  did  not  attach  much  importance  to 
Tinker. 

He  was  only  a  black  boy,  whom  she  thought  might  be 
spared  to  make  them  a  servant 


254  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

Rook,  however,  she  was  inclined  to  hang  on  a  tree  by 
the  roadside. 

Some  body  passing  along  would  be  sure  to  see  it,  and 
disseminate  the  news. 

This  would  be  a  direct  defiance  to  Harkaway. 

Only  one  of  the  band  raised  his  voice  against  the  pro- 
posal,'and  that  was  Morris. 

He  had  promised  to  befriend  Rook  if  he  could,  and  he 
kept  his  word, 

But  he  was  overruled. 

The  members  of  the  band  were  not  inclined  to  enter- 
tain considerations  of  mercy. 

After  a  parley,  it  was  decided,  with  only  one  dissentient 
voice,  that  Rook  should  die. 

Tinker  was  to  be  the  camp  servant  and  odd  boy,  with 
a  stone  attached  to  a  chain  round  his  foot  to  prevent  his 
running  away. 

Rook  was  condemned  to  be  hanged  by  the  roadside, 
at  daybreak  the  next  morning. 

Mrs.  Morgan  wrote,  in  pencil  on  a  piece  of  paper, 
words  to  the  effect  that  he  was  put  to  death  by  order  of 
the  widow  of  the  late  bushranger,  and  the  sentence  ex- 
ecuted by  members  of  her  band. 

This  placard  was  to  be  fixed  to  his  breast. 

It  was,  indeed,  throwing  a  challenge  at  law  and  estab- 
lished authority. 

When  this  was  settled,  Bob  Morgan  proposed  that  his 
sister-in-law  should  be  made  the  head  of  the  band. 

He  further  suggested  that  she  should  be  known  as  the 
Queen  of  the  Bushrangers. 

Both  propositions  were  carried  by  acclamation. 

Morro  said  that  Bob  Morgan  should  be  lieutenant, 
which  was  agreed  to. 

The  camp  was  to  be  known  as  Morgan's  Nest. 

Their  objects  would  be  to  plunder  houses,  rob  travellers, 
and  be  revenged  on  Harkaway  and  his  friends. 

When  all  was  arranged,  Daggersberg  was  told  to  in- 
form Rook  of  his  fate. 

This  was  a  congenial  task  to  the  bushranger. 

The  rest  of  the  band  retired  to  their  huts. 

Overhead  the  stars  were  shining  brightly  in  the  dark 
vault  of  heaven. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  255 

Tinker  had  stretched  himself  on  the  ground,  but  Rook 
sat  up. 

He  looked  at  Daggersberg,  and  a  tremor  came  over 
him. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

ROOK'S  FATE — SNATCHED  FROM  THE  GRAVE — THE  LAW'S  DELAY. 

IT  was  a  chilly  night,  the  wind  having  suddenly 
changed. 

A  cold  blast  swept  shrilly  through  the  branches  of  the 
trees,  and  rain  fell  at  intervals. 

Sailors  would  have  termed  it  squally  weather. 

Daggersberg  was  the  sentry  appointed  for  the  first  half 
of  the  night,  and,  as  we  have  stated,  was  ordered  to  in- 
form Rook  of  the  doom  which  awaited  him  on  the  mor- 
row. 

He  was  of  Dutch  extraction,  and,  like  most  of  his  com- 
patriots, a  great  smoker. 

For  a  time  he  walked  up  and  down,  his  rifle  on  his 
shoulder  and  his  pipe  in  his  mouth. 

Then  he  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  the  bowl  and  went 
up  to  Rook,  who,  still  seated  under  a  tree,  was  gazing 
vacantly  at  the  expiring  embers  of  the  fire. 

Now  and  again  the  wind  would  fan  them  into  a  fierce 
blaze,  and  anon  they  would  almost  die  out. 

"My  friend,"  exclaimed  Daggersberg,  "I  have  sad 
news  for  you." 

Rook  looked  up. 

"That  is  no  more  than  I  expected,"  he  replied.  "You 
bushrangers  have  not  much  of  a  reputation  for  mercy." 

"No  one  shows  us  any,"  remarked  Daggersberg. 

"  Do  you  deserve  it  ?  Why  don't  you  work  for  a  living, 
kistead  of  robbing  people  ?  " 

"  I  like  the  life  ;  and  as  for  work,  there  is  plenty  of  that 
about  it,  let  me  tell  you." 

•  •  How  long  have  you  been  at  it  ? " 

"Going  on  five  years  ;  ever  since  Morgan  started." 

"You'll  get  wiped  out  before  long,  only  you  can't  see 
it,"  replied  Rook. 

"Not  by  the  sheriff,"  Daggersberg  laughed.     " He  has 


256  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

tackled  us  several  times,  and  always  got  the  worst  of  it. 
We  know  Sheriff  Hardrock,  of  Masdon,  and  he  knows  us. " 

"That  may  be  so.  You  forget,  however,  that  if  the 
sheriff  holds  aloof,  you  will  have  to  account  to  Harkaway 
if  you  injure  me  or  that  black  boy  who  is  sleeping  by  my 
side." 

"  He  is  safe,"  answered  Daggersberg.  "The  Queen  of 
the  Bushrangers  has  decided  to  keep  him  as  a  servant." 

"If  you  reckon  on  keeping  that  boy,  you  make  a  mis- 
take. He'll  cut  and  run. " 

"Not  if  we  hobble  him,  with  a  piece  of  wood  fastened 
to  a  chain  round  his  leg." 

"He'll  skip,  for  he's  as 'cute  as  they  make  them. 
Young  Harkaway  sets  great  store  by  him." 

"  We  don't  care  a  snap  of  the  fingers  for  the  Harkaways 
and  their  party." 

"  You'll  have  to.  None  of  you  know  them  so  well  as 
I  do.  The  elder  Harkaway  is  a  masterpiece,"  said  Rook. 
"If  you  keep  the  boy  you'll  rue  it.  But  to  business." 

"That's  what  I  was  coming  to." 

"What's  my  fate  to  be  ?  " 

"You've  got  to  have  your  neck  stretched,  my  boy, 
early  to-morrov/,  so  if  you  know  any  prayers,  you'd  bet- 
ter rake  'em  up,"  replied  Daggersberg. 

A  shudder  ran  through  Rook's  frame. 

The  sentence  of  death  had  not  been  expected  by  him. 

It  was  hard  to  be  hurried  out  of  the  world  in  such  a 
sudden  and  cruel  manner. 

Then  there  was  the  ignominy  of  a  death  by  hanging. 

It  was  the  fate  of  a  common  malefactor. 

"You'll  be  sorry  for  it,"  he  exclaimed.  "Harkaway 
might  have  left  you  alone  if  you'd  not  interfered  with  me 
and  Tinker." 

"  Can't  help  it ;  the  band  have  decided  against  you," 
rejoined  Daggersberg. 

"  Have  I  no  friend  amongst  you  ?  " 

"  Only  Morris.     He  spoke  up  for  your  life." 

"You  can  get  money  for  my  release  by  sending  to 
Harkawayville. " 

"It's  no  use  holding  out  any  hope  to  you,  old  son. 
The  queen  and  Bob  Morgan  are  full  of  revenge  for  the 
death  of  the  greatest  bushranger  Australia  ever  produced. 
They  mean  to  hang  Harkaway  before  they've  done." 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA, 


257 


••That's  all  talk." 

"  I  don't  know  so  much  about  that,"  said  Daggersberg, 
with  a  thoughtful  shake  of  the  head. 

"  Leave  me  to  myself,  will  you  please  ? "  replied  Rook. 

"  With  pleasure." 

"You've  told  me  that  I  have  to  look  eternity  in  the 
face  very  shortly,  and  I  want  to  think  it  over." 

"  It's  a  sure  thing  ;  don't  hope." 

"I'm  no  coward,  but  I'm  not  in  the  humour  for  talk- 
ing." 

"If  I  could  help  you,  I  would." 

"Help  me,"  repeated  Rook.      "You  can  if  you  choose." 

"  How?" 

"Set  me  and  the  boy  free.  We  will  make  tracks  for 
Harka  way  ville. " 

"  That  would  cost  me  my  life." 

"  Come  with  us  and  I  will  make  a  man  of  you.  What 
are  you  now  ?  " 

"You  can  answer  the  question  as  well  as  I." 

"An  outlaw,  a  bushranger,  a  bandit,"  said  Rook. 

"More  than  that,"  replied  Daggersberg,  gloomily. 

"Tell  me,"  asked  Rook,  under  his  breath. 

He  knew  that  this  man  had  a  fearful  past. 

Were  it  not  so,  he  would  not  have  been  in  the  position 
he  was. 

Only  fugitives,  criminals  of  all  sorts,  became  bush- 
rangers. 

"Murderer  !  "  replied  Daggersberg,  calmly. 

"Whom  did  you  kill?"  asked  Rook. 

"  My  wife.     It  was  her  fault. " 

"That  is  why  you  are  a  fugitive  from  civilisation?" 

"Nothing  else.  If  I  went  back  from  the  bush,  they 
would  have  me,  and  do  with  me  as  the  queen  and  her 
people  will  do  with  you  to-morrow." 

"Say  no  more  ;  I  am  resigned, "Rook  answered. 

He  fell  back  and  closed  his  eyes. 

Daggersberg  resumed  his  patrol. 

In  due  time,  he  was  relieved  by  Bob  Morgan,  being 
very  glad  of  a  few  hours'  repose. 

When  the  dawn  came,  Morgan  was  joined  by  Morris. 

After  a  few  words,  they  roused  Rook  and  Tinker,  who 
for  some  time  had  been  fast  asleep. 

To  the  leg  of  the  black  boy  they  riveted  a  chain,  at  the 
17 


258  JACK  HARK  A  WA  V  AND  1US  SON'S 

end  of  which   was  securely  fastened  a  heavy  log  of 
wood. 

"What  are  you  doing  to  this  child?  asked  Tinker, 
when  the  operation  was  completed. 

"That's  just  to  keep  you  steady,"  replied  Morgan. 

"  I's  right  enough." 

"You've  got  to  be  the  bushrangers'  servant— slave, 
if  you  like  to  call  it  so,  for  you'll  have  to  wait  on  the 
camp." 

"Get  more  kicks  than  ha'pence,  I  guess." 

"Right  you  are,  if  you  don't  behave  yourself,"  said 
Morgan. 

"  I've  got  to  grin  and  bear  it." 

"  No  mistake  about  that." 

"What's  the  berth  worth,  old  cornstalk  ?" 

"A  smack  side  of  the  head,  if  you  let  your  tongue 
wag." 

"Is  Mr.  Rook  in  it?" 

"No  ;  he  isn't  taking  any.  He  is  going  to  stretch  his 
neck,  so  you  may  say  good-bye. " 

Tinker's  face  became  grave. 

He  showed  by  his  looks  how  much  he  felt. 

The  two  shook  hands. 

Then  Rook  was  told  to  march  after  Morgan,  who  led 
the  van,  Morris  bringing  up  the  rear. 

The  latter  had,  coiled  over  his  right  arm,  a  long,  thick 
rope. 

Silently  they  threaded  their  way  through  the  mazy  bush. 

The  rain  had  ceased  falling,  but  the  wind  was  blowing 
half  a  gale. 

It  made  mournful  music  in  the  tree-tops. 

In  an  hour,  the  main  road  between  Masdon  and  Harka- 
wayville  was  reached. 

Morgan  and  Morris  led  their  prisoner  a  few  paces  down 
the  road. 

They  halted  close  to  a  tall  tree  that  had  been  struck  by 
lightning  some  years  before. 

About  three  feet  above  their  heads  was  a  scathed, 
barkless  bough. 

Though  dead  wood,  it  was  still  strong  enough  to  sus- 
tain the  weight  of  a  man. 

Over  this  the  rope  was  thrown. 

A  noose  was  made  at  one  end,  and  there  was  rope 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


259 


enough  left  to  tie  round  the  trunk  when  the  victim  was 
drawn  up. 

The  slip-knot  was  placed  round  Rook's  neck. 

His  arms  were  already  bound ;  as  an  additional  pre- 
caution, they  tied  his  legs  together  near  the  ankles. 

He  seemed  perfectly  unconcerned. 

In  reality,  however,  he  was  not  so. 

The  man  was  thinking  deeply  about  the  possibilities 
of  a  future  life. 

Death  was  coming  to  him  very  suddenly. 

There  were  passages  in  his  career  which  he  could 
have  wished  blotted  out. 

Who  is  there  among  us  who  has  not  one  or  more  regrets 
for  conduct  in  the  past  ? 

He  was  making  his  peace  with  the  Power  that  alone 
could  show  him  compassion. 

"Good-bye,"  said  Morgan. 

Morris  took  hold  of  the  end  of  the  rope. 

He  only  awaited  the  signal  from  his  accomplice  to 
haul  away. 

"  Farewell,"  replied  Rook,  "I  die  with  no  ill-feeling  or 
enmity  towards  any  one.  You  have  my  forgiveness  for 
the  crime  you  are  going  to  commit." 

"Swing  him  !  "  cried  Bob  Morgan. 

Morris  gave  a  pull  at  the  rope,  and  ROOK  was  taken  up 
at  least  three  feet  from  the  ground. 

The  rope  was  then  made  fast  round  the  trunk  of  the 
blasted  tree. 

The  victim  of  the  bushrangers'  hate  did  not  sustain  any 
fracture  of  the  vertebrae,  as  is  usually  the  case  in  death 
by  hanging. 

This  was  because  there  was  no  drop. 

He  was  doomed  to  a  more  painful  death — namely,  one 
by  slow  strangulation. 

In  a  few  moments  his  face  became  a  horrible  sight. 

Morgan  and  Morris,  hardened  and  callous  as  they 
were,  turned  away  from  it,  sick  at  heart. 

It  was  more  than  even  they  could  stand. 

The  placard,  worded  and  written  by  the  queen,  had 
been  pinned  to  his  vest. 

It  set  forth  that  the  man  had  been  condemned  and 
executed  by  order  of  Susan  Morgan,  Queen  of  the  Bush- 
rangers. 


260  JA CK  HARKWAA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

The  conclusion  was  :   "Success  to  anarchy." 

Rook's  face  became  almost  black  with  the  pressure  ol 
blood. 

His  tongue  lolled  out,  swollen  and  discoloured. 

His  features  were  hideously  distorted,  and  his  eyes 
nearly  started  from  his  head. 

"Come  on,"  exclaimed  Morgan.  "We  have  done  the 
trick.  I  can't  bear  that  sight " 

"Nor  I.  It's  a  thing  to  dream  of  and  wake  up  in  the 
night  with  the  horrors,"  replied  Morris. 

The  limbs  twitched  convulsively. 

Rook's  eyes  seemed  to  be  watching  their  every  move- 
ment. 

"I  wonder  how  long  he  will  be  dying,"  remarked  Bob 
Morgan. 

"It  takes  some  time  to  die  of  strangulation, "  replied 
Morris.  "Shall  I  try  it  on  you ?  Let  me  put  my  fingers 
round  your  throat." 

"No,  thank  you." 

"  I'll  leave  off  before  the  critical  moment  comes.  You 
can  tell  me  what  you  think  of  hanging  as  a  mode  of 
capital  punishment,  and  whether  it  hurts  much." 

"Don't  be  a  fool." 

Saying  this,  Morgan  grasped  his  companion's  arm  and 
dragged  him  into  the  bush. 

They  immediately  disappeared  amidst  the  trees  and 
scrub. 

The  body  of  Rook  was  left  to  swing  mournfully  in  the 
fresh  breeze. 

Scarcely  had  Morgan  and  Morris  quitted  the  scene  ot 
their  rascality,  than  a  most  remarkable  thing  occurred. 

It  seemed  like  a  direct  intervention  of  Providence  on 
behalf  of  the  wretched  man. 

Two  persons  suddenly  appeared  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  road. 

They  had  evidently  walked  across  the  open  grazing 
ground  which  intervened  between  them  and  the  settle- 
ment. 

One  was  Jack  Harkaway  and  the  other  his  old  friend 
Harvey. 

Thinking  nothing  of  a  long  walk,  they  had  started  early 
to  go  to  Masdon,  and  find  out  what  the  sheriff  was  going 
to  do  with  the  bushrangers. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  26 1 

It  was  their  belief  that  Rook  and  Tinker  would  be 
entertained  by  Sheriff  Hardrock  with  proverbial  colonial 
hospitality. 

They  could  not  do  less  than  stay  the  night  at  his 
house,  and  the  best  part  of  the  next  day. 

Judge  of  their  astonishment  when  they  saw,  right  in 
front  of  their  eyes,  a  body  swinging  in  the  air. 

Convulsed  as  the  features  were,  they  could  see  that  the 
victim  was  no  other  than  Rook. 

How  long  he  had  been  hanging  they  did  not  know. 

There  was  no  possibility  of  their  finding  out. 

"Good  Heaven  !  look  there  !  "  Harvey  exclaimed. 

"It  is  our  friend  Rook,"  Harkaway  replied,  drawing 
his  large  bowie  knife. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"Cut  him  down." 

"  He  looks  too  far  gone  for  our  help  to  be  of  any  use  to 
him,"  said  Harvey. 

"Never  say  die.  Nil  desperandum  !  That  has  always 
been  my  motto,"  replied  Jack. 

"  A  jolly  good  one,  too.     Hurrah  for  a  light  heart !  " 

"And  a  true,  honest  mind,"  put  in  Jack. 

"You're  not  worth  much  without  it,"  Harvey  an- 
swered. 

While  they  were  talking,  Jack  had  been  hard  at  work 
at  the  rope. 

He  speedily  cut  it  through. 

' '  Stand  by  !  "  he  cried. 

Harvey  held  out  his  arms  and  caught  the  body  of  Rook 
as,  by  the  loosening  of  the  rope,  it  descended  to  the  ground. 

He  laid  it  down  on  a  soft,  mossy  bank,  on  which  wild 
flowers  and  ferns  grew. 

Harkaway,  knife  in  hand,  was  by  his  side  in  a  moment. 

The  rope  was  removed  from  his  neck,  his  collar  torn 
open,  his  arms  and  legs  unbound. 

Rook  began  to  breathe  again,  and  the  black  blood  went 
from  his  face. 

Still  there  was  a  dangerous  look  about  him. 

"  He  hasn't  been  strung  up  long,  poor  beggar,"  said 
Jack. 

"It  is  lucky  we  came  along,"  replied  Harvey. 

"The  thing's  a  mystery  tome,"  continued  Jack.  "The 
.'angers  must  have  bested  him  and  Tinker  in  some  way." 


262  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"What's  this  on  his  vest?  " 

Harvey  pointed  to  the  placard. 

Up  to  now  it  had  escaped  their  notice. 

They  read  it  attentively,  and  their  faces  soon  expressed 
the  surprise  and  mortification  they  felt. 

"A  new  danger  has  sprung  up  for  me — for  all  of  us," 
said  Harkaway. 

"I  have  heard  of  this  wife  of  Morgan's,"  observed 
Harvey.  ' '  She's  a  perfect  terror.  They  call  her  Fighting 
Sue,  the  demon  of  the  woods." 

"And  now  she  is  Queen  of  the  Bushrangers.  It  is  a 
bad  lookout  for  us.  She  will  attack  the  settlement.  We 
can't  think  of  leaving  Australian  soil  yet  awhile. " 

"No,"  replied  Harvey;  "that's  like  our  luck.  We 
must  settle  accounts  with  Mrs.  Morgan. " 

"She  is  after  revenge,  because  I  was  the  cause  of  hei- 
husband's  death." 

"There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that.  I  say,  will  this  man 
recover?  I  like  him  too  well  to  think  of  losing  him." 

"  He's  all  right ;  I  can  tell  by  the  strengthening  of  the 
respiration. " 

' '  Glad  to  hear  it.  Give  him  a  drop  of  brandy  out  of 
your  flask." 

Jack  did  so,  and  Rook  gazed  at  them  with  signs  of 
returning  consciousness. 

"When  he  was  able  to  move,  they  got  him  on  his  feet, 
and  walked  him  up  and  down. 

This  restored  the  circulation  to  its  normal  condition. 

In  about  an  hour  he  was  himself  again. 

He  shook  hands  with  his  rescuers,  thanked  them  for 
their  services,  and  related  his  adventures. 

Harkaway  and  Harvey  saw  that  there  was  trouble 
ahead  of  them,  if  this  new  band  of  rangers  was  not 
speedily  stamped  out. 

"  I  rejoice  to  know  that  you  have  been  brought  back 
from  the  grave,  as  it  were,"  said  Jack.  "I  was  going 
with  Harvey  to  Masdon,  but  will  see  you  back  to  the 
settlement. " 

"Never  mind  me,  sir,"  replied  Rook.  "  You  are  too 
kind.  I  can  get  round  by  myself." 

"Are  you  sure  you  are  strong  enough  ?  " 

"Quite.  There  is  no  danger.  The  rangers  will  lie  low 
for  a  time,  and  then  Fighting  Sue  will  go  for  you." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  263 

"For  me — yes." 

"You  know  it.  You  feel  it  as  I  do.  Beware  of  her. 
She  wants  revenge." 

"Right  again — for  her  husband's  death,  of  which  she 
thinks  me  the  sole  cause." 

"Precisely.  And  I  don't  think  that  woman,  Mr.  Hark- 
away,  will  ever  rest  contented  until  you  have  had  her 
hanged,  or  she  has  settled  you." 

"  That  is  just  my  opinion,  Rook,"  said  Harkaway  ; 
"and  if  you  will  walk  back  to  the  settlement,  Harvey  and 
I  will  proceed  and  acquaint  the  sheriff  with  what  has 
happened,  tell  him  of  this  new  pest  to  Colonial  up-country 
people,  and  ask  him  to  drop  down  on  it  quickly." 

"  It  is  his  place  to  do  it." 

"Why  does  he  get  his  position  and  pay  if  not  to 
protect  the  citizens  ?  "  continued  Jack. 

They  parted. 

Rook  went  to  the  settlement. 

He  felt  rather  dizzy  and  sore  round  the  throat,  but  he 
had  not  been  hanging  long  enough  to  hurt  much. 

Harkaway  and  Harvey  continued  their  journey  to 
Masdon,  and  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  Sheriff  Hard- 
rock  at  home. 

This  functionary,  who  thought  rather  more  of  himself 
than  other  people  did,  was  indulging  in  an  early  twelve- 
o'clock  dinner. 

They  had  met  before,  so  that  there  was  no  need  of  any 
introduction. 

"Glad  to  see  you,"  he  exclaimed,  as  the  help  ushered 
them  in.  "Sit  down  and  join  me.  It's  only  roast  sheep 
meat.  I'd  ha'  killed  a  couple  of  fowls  had  I  known  you 
were  coming." 

"Thank  you  all  the  same,  "replied  Jack,  "we'll  dine 
later  at  the  inn.  Not  hungry  yet.  You  peg  away,  and 
listen  to  what  we  have  come  to  tell  you." 

"Wire  in,"  said  the  sheriff. 

Harkaway  clearly  and  succinctly  related  all  the  recent 
occurrences. 

He  wound  up  with  a  description  of  Fighting  Sue's 
position  and  band,  her  intentions  towards  him,  and  the 
way  in  which  she  had  treated  Rook. 

"It  is  a  very  daring  set-out,"  exclaimed  the  sheriff 
"but  only  what  we  are  accustomed  to  in  these  parts." 


264  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  do  about  it  ?  "  asked  Harkaway. 

"Nothing  at  present." 

"  Won't  you  rid  the  country  of  these  plagues  ?  " 

"I  have  my  hands  full  just  now,  Mr.  Harkaway.  For 
fully  a  month,  or  more,  I  can  not  attend  to  Mrs.  Morgan's 
gang,"  replied  Hardrock. 

Jack  was  astonished  and  annoyed. 

"How  is  that,  may  I  inquire?  The  settlers  ought  to 
be  protected,"  he  said. 

"I  am  doing  my  best  for  their  welfare.  I  must  hunt 
down  and  bring  to  justice  some  sheep-stealers. " 

"Well,  when  can  we  expect  you  to  move  in  the  matter  ? " 

"As  soon  as  I  can." 

"That  is  very  vague." 

"I  can  give  you  nothing  more  definite.-  In  addition  to 
the  sheep-stealers,  I  have  to  look  out  for  a  London 
swindler." 

"Who  is  that?" 

"The  police  at  Melbourne  have  wired  me  that  a  noto- 
rious rascal  is  coming  here  to  work  the  neighbourhood. 
Sometimes  he  calls  himself  a  lord,  at  others  a  baronet,  or 
a  captain  in  the  army." 

"Never  mind  him,"  cried  Jack,  impatiently.  "The 
rangers  have  got  our  boy  Tinker.  I  want  him  back. 
They " 

"It's  no  good,  sir,"  interrupted  Hardrock.  "I  can't 
help  you  for  a  month  at  least.  Please  excuse  me.  I  must 
be  off." 

The  sheriff  rose. 

This  was  a  signal  for  his  visitors  to  depart. 

They  did  so,  deeply  disappointed. 

If  anything  was  to  be  done  with  the  new  Morgan  gang, 
they  would  have  to  do  it  themselves. 

Harkaway  and  Harvey  went  to  the  inn,  where  they  had 
some  dinner. 

Having  refreshed  themselves,  they  returned  to  the  set- 
tlement. 

Jack  was  unusually  grave  and  serious. 

There  was  more  hard  work  and  danger  in  store  for  him. 

He  was  well  aware  that  young  Jack  would  not  leave 
the  up-country  station  until  he  had  rescued  his  boy 
Tinker  from  the  clutches  of  Fighting  Sue,  the  Queen  of  the 
Bushrangers. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  2  65 

Action  of  some  sort  must  be  decided  upon. 
He  could  expect  no  help  from  Hardrock. 
In  his  opinion,  the  rangers  were  more  formidable,  more 
daring  and  to  be  dreaded  than  they  ever  had  been. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

MR.  MOLE  MAKES  THE  ACQUAINTANCE  OF  A  NOBLEMAN,  AND 
BRINGS  HIM  TO  HARKAWAYVILLE,  ONLY  TO  FIND  OUT  THAT 
ALL  IS  NOT  GOLD  THAT  GLITTERS. 

As  Harkaway  had  anticipated,  young  Jack  entreated 
him  not  to  leave  the  Australian  continent  without  rescuing 
his  boy  Tinker  from  the  new  band  of  bushrangers. 

He  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to  Tinker. 

It  seemed  cowardly  in  the  extreme  to  abandon  him  to 
his  fate. 

Rook  was  of  the  same  mind. 

Anxious  though  he  was  to  return  to  the  Old  Country, 
Harkaway  yielded  to  his  son's  wishes. 

It  was  settled  that  the  bushrangers  should  be  attacked, 
but  they  were  a  formidable  band. 

Time  was  required  for  the  organisation  of  an  expedition. 

The  people  in  the  settlement  did  not  care  about  Tinker, 
and  relied,  for  their  defence  against  Fighting  Sue  and  her 
men,  upon  the  sheriff  of  the  county. 

Therefore,  Harkaway  had  to  depend  upon  his  own  par- 
ticular friends  and  followers. 

He  summoned  them  all  to  his  house,  and  everyone 
obeyed  the  call,  except  Mr.  Mole; 

These  were  Harvey,  Rook,  young  Jack,  Harry  Gird- 
wood,  Monday  and  Sunday. 

"This  is  a  council  of  war,"  exclaimed  Harkaway. 
"The  bushrangers  have  sprung  into  existence  again,  and 
we  shall  have  to  do  our  work  a  second  time." 

"If  it  was  not  for  Tinker,  we  could  go  home,  father," 
replied  young  Jack. 

"I  have  promised  you  that  we  will  rescue  him,  but  \ve 
are  not  strong  enough  to  cope  with  them  at  present.  We 
must  beat  up  for  recruits.  The  settlers  do  not  care  to 


266  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

fight,  although  they  ought  to  do  so  to  protect  themselves. 
At  any  moment  they  may  be  raided  on  and  plundered." 

"Offer  a  sum  of  money  for  volunteers,  father." 

"I  will  do  so,"  said  Harkaway.  "  I  should  think  half- 
a-dozen  more  will  be  sufficient  to  assist  us." 

"If  they  are  sturdy,  reliable  fellows,"  put  in  Rook. 
"Yet  I  do  not  think  we  shall  get  our  volunteers  here. 
They  are  intent  on  the  business  of  cultivating  land  and 
raising  sheep." 

"That  is  so.  They  will  defend  themselves,  but  fight- 
ing is  not  in  their  line.  However,  I  shall  try  to  raise  a 
small  force,  and  until  I  can  do  so,  we  must  wait,"  re- 
plied Harkaway. 

The  council  broke  up. 

Young  Jack,  Harry  Girdwood,  and  Monday  walked  out 
together. 

They  sat  down  on  a  piece  of  land  in  front  of  Mr.  Mole's 
house,  which  was  not  far  off. 

"  This  am  a  bad  bit  of  business  about  poor  Tinker,"  ex- 
claimed Monday.  "  What  am  we  going  to  do  ?  " 

"I  sha'n't  wait  for  the  governor  to  raise  his  force,"  re- 
plied young  Jack.  "If  you  and  Harry  will  join  me,  I 
will  rescue  him  in  a  day  or  two. " 

"  I'm  with  you,"  said  Harry. 

"Count  me  in,  you  bet,"  cried  Monday.  "We'll  set 
fire  to  the  bush,  and  burn  the  ole  woman  and  her  band  up. " 

"That's  not  a  bad  suggestion  ;  there's  a  lot  in  it,"  ex- 
claimed Jack,  admiringly. 

"It  am  a  stroke  of  genius,  "replied  Monday,  with  a  self- 
complacent  smile. 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that,  since  you  say  so.  Are 
you  often  like  it  ? " 

"I's  taken  that  way  sometimes.  My  head  is  not  so 
thick  as  it  looks,  sar."' 

"You  heard  Rook  tell  us  the  direction  in  which  we 
must  go  to  find  the  rangers'  camp  ?  "  continued  Jack. 

"Yes,  sar.  Reach  the  road  to  Masdon,  and  come  to 
the  tree  scathed  by  lightning  ;  then  go  into  the  bush  by 
um  south-west  quarter  of  um  compass." 

"That  is  correct.  Now,  we  must  wait  in  the  bush  until 
the  wind  is  blowing  towards  the  rangers,  and  then  set  fire 
to  the  bush.  What  do  you  think  of  the  plan,  Harry  ?  " 

"I  call  it  a  thundering  good   scheme,  so   far  as  the 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  US  TR  ALIA .  267 

rangers  are  concerned  ;  but  you  have  forgotten  one  thing," 
rejoined  Girdwood. 

"What's  that?" 

"If  you  burn  them  up  or  drive  them  to  flight,  the  same 
thing  will  happen  to  Tinker,  who  will  share  the  fate  of  his 
captors,  whatever  that  may  be." 

Jack  and  Monday  looked  blankly  at  one  another. 

The  circumstance  that  Girdwood  reminded  them  of  was 
one  they  had  entirely  overlooked. 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  young  Jack.  "You're  such  a 
deuced  clever  fellow,  aren't  you,  Monday  ?  " 

The  Prince  of  Limbi  was  not  at  all  disconcerted. 

He  pointed  his  finger  at  young  Jack. 

"There's  two  of  us,"  he  retorted.      "  Yah,  yah  !  " 

"  He's  got  you  there,"  remarked  Harry. 

"I  suppose  I  must  admit  that  I  jumped  too  readily  to 
conclusions,"  said  Jack. 

"If  Tinker,  as  Rook  describes  it,  has  a  log  of  wood 
fastened  by  a  chain  to  his  leg,  he  can't  run  very  fast.  Um 
fire  get  him  first,"  observed  Monday. 

"  So  we  are  as  far  off  rescuing  him  as  ever." 

"That's  so,  Mast' Jack. " 

"If  I  wait  for  father  to  get  a  force  together,  or  for  the 
sheriff's  posse,  I  may  wait  a  month,"  cried  Jack,  im- 
patiently. 

"  Don't  wait — act,"  replied  Harry. 

"That's  the  talk!"  exclaimed  Monday.  "Bravo! 
Three  cheers  !  Hurrah  !  " 

"Yes,"  added  Jack,  "we  three  will  attack  Fighting  Sue 
and  her  men,  and  give  the  bushrangers  all  they  require  in 
the  way  of  lead  pills." 

A  voice  behind  them  was  heard. 

"Well  said!"  it  exclaimed.  "But  you  shall  not  go 
alone  ;  there  shall  be  four  of  us,  and  they  shall  hark  to  the 
roar  of  us.  We'll  give  them  fits. " 

They  turned  round,  and  beheld  Mr.  Mole. 

By  his  side  was  a  stout,  well-dressed,  rather  aristocratic- 
looking  stranger. 

His  diamond  scarf-pin  was  large,  his  rings  numerous, 
and  his  watch-chain  massive. 

They  had  just  got  out  of  a  dog-cart,  in  which  they  had 
driven  from  Masdon,  to  which  place  the  professor  had  been 
on  a  visit  for  a  day  or  two. 


268  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

He  had  some  friends  in  the  town,  with  whom  he  did 
business  in  gold. 

For  some  time  past,  Mr.  Mole  had  been  buying  up 
nuggets. 

These  he  kept  in  a  large  box  in  his  house,  intending  to 
take  them  to  England. 

In  the  Old  Country  he  hoped  to  dispose  of  them  at  a 
profit. 

At  the  time  we  are  speaking  of,  he  had  over  a  thousand 
pounds'  worth  of  lumps  of  virgin  gold  in  his  box. 

There  was  a  placid  smile  on  the  old  gentleman's  face. 

It  proclaimed  almost  audibly  that  he  was  on  excellent 
terms  with  himself. 

"Two  of  my  pupils,  my  lord  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "The 
coloured  person  is  their  attendant." 

This  remark  was  addressed  to  his  companion. 

"Ah!  indeed.  Very  glad  to  make  their  acquaintance, 
I'm  sure,"  was  the  reply.  "What  names  did  you  say?" 

"I  will  with  your  permission,  introduce  them." 

"Why  don't  you  ask  ours?"  inquired  young  Jack. 

"Is  it  not  an  honour,  my  dear  boy,  to  be  presented  to  a 
lord  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  so  much  about  that." 

"  Hush  !  Harkaway  and  Girdwood — Lord  Bankside. 
His  lordship  and  I  met  on  the  road  between  here  and 
Masdon.  He  was  coming  to  our  settlement,  to  buy  land, 
for  he  had  heard  much  of  the  excellent  prospects  of  Hark- 
awayville  as  a  regular  growing,  go-ahead,  take-the-cake 
sort  of  place.  Lord  Bankside  has  kindly  consented  to 
honour  my  poor  house  with  his  presence  for  a  few 
days." 

Jack  and  Harry  bowed  stiffly. 

Lord  Bankside  smiled,  and  said  he  was  glad  to  know 
them,  adding  that,  from  what  he  had  seen  of  the  settle- 
ment, he  knew  he  should  like  it  very  much. 

"Now,  my  lord,"  continued  Mole,  "I  will  take  you 
round,  and  make  you  acquainted  with  our  principal 
citizens." 

"  I  am  rather  tired,"  replied  his  lordship.  "  Cannot  you 
defer  it  until  to-morrow  ?  " 

"As  you  please.  We  will  have  a  walk  instead,  and 
then  some  refreshment  in  my  house.  I  have  some  par- 
ticularly old  brandy,  which  I  can  recommend." 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  2  69 

They  walked  away  together,  Mole  being  as  proud  as  a 
peacock  of  his  new  friend. 

A  lord  had  never  before  been  seen  so  far  up  country, 
and  was  a  decided  novelty. 

"What  do  you  think  of  Mole's  friend? "  asked  Jack. 

"  I  don't  like  him,"  replied  Harry  ;  "he  does  not  look 
like  the  genuine  article." 

"Wouldn't  care  about  meeting  him  on  a  dark  night  in 
um  lonely  road,"  said  Monday. 

"You're  right.  He's  got  a  sort  of  stand-and-deliver 
air.  I  shall  steer  clear  of  him,"  continued  Jack. 

"  When  do  you  intend  to  start  after  Tinker?  "  inquired 
Harry. 

"To-morrow  morning.     Keep  it  dark." 

"  Is  the  governor  to  know  of  it  ? " 

".Certainly  not  ;  he'd  crab  it.  If  he  told  me  not  to  go, 
I  should  have  to  abandon  the  job,  because  I  never  fly  in 
the  face  of  his  authority  and  disobey  him  ;  but  if  he  knows 
nothing  about  my  intention,  I  shall  be  all  right,"  replied 
Jack. 

' '  Shall  you  let  Mole  come  ? " 

"  He's  no  good  in  the  bush  with  his  wooden  legs.  He 
can  fire  a  gun,  but  he'd  be  more  trouble  than  he's  worth." 

"  That's  what  I  was  thinking,"  said  Harry. 

"Perhaps  he'll  let  out  what  he  has  heard,  and  give  us 
away. " 

"  Not  he.  I  can  see  that  he  is  too  full  of  his  nobleman, 
and,  after  their  walk,  Mole  will  get  as  tight  as  a  drum. 
I  know  him.  Suppose  we  clean  our  rifles  and  pistols, 
and  fill  our  knapsacks  with  provisions,  and  our  kegs  with 
water  ? " 

"  That  is  well  thought  of." 

They  separated  to  do  as  Jack  suggested,  and  had  only 
just  left  the  spot,  when  Mr.  Mole  and  Lord  Bankside  re- 
turned to  the  house. 

Half-a-dozen  people  whom  they  met  had  been  made 
known  to  his  lordship,  and  the  news  of  his  arrival  was 
flashed  like  wildfire  through  the  settlement. 

"  I  flatter  myself  you  have  created  a  sensation,"  re- 
marked Mole,  as  he  noticed  the  inhabitants  come  out  of 
their  houses,  and  look  curiously  at  them. 

'  A  man  of  my  rank  must  expect  to  be  stared  at,"  replied 
the  nobleman.  "  It  was  just  the  same  in  Melbourne.  I 


270  JACK  HA  RKA  WAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

was  feted  and  invited  every  where.  One  night  at  the 
Governor-General's,  the  next  with  the  Mayor,  another 
time  at  a  leading  merchant's.  I  thought  the  ladies  would 
devour  me.  My  title  is  a  confounded  nuisance.  I've  a 
good  mind  to  drop  it." 

Mr.  Mole  led  the  way  into  the  house,  conducting  his 
distinguished  guest  into  his  private  room.  Here  he  pro- 
duced a  bottle  of  brandy,  glasses  and  mineral  waters,  as 
well  as  cigars. 

After  a  couple  of  drinks,  he  became  confidential,  and, 
opening  his  gold-box,  displayed  his  nuggets. 

"You  are  a  rich  man,  I  suppose?"  said  the  noble- 
man. 

"  No,  my  lord,"  replied  Mole.  "  I  have  a  moderate  in- 
come, that  is  all. " 

"When  do  you  and  your  party  intend  to  return  to 
England?" 

"Not  for  some  time,  I  am  sorry  to  say.  Our  going 
away  is  delayed." 

"How  is  that?" 

"A  new  band  of  bushrangers  has  suddenly  sprung  into 
existence.  They  were  totally  unexpected.  We  thought 
we  had  destroyed  the  pests  when  we  killed  Morgan  ;  but 
his  wife  has  taken  to  the  bush,  with,  I  hear,  ten  follow- 
ers. " 

"Not  many,  yet  quite  enough  to  be  troublesome,"  re- 
marked Lord  Bankside. 

"The  queen,  who  is  nicknamed  Fighting  Sue,  has 
vowed  vengeance  against  us,  especially  our  leader,  Hark- 
away,"  said  Mole. 

"Why  don't  you  leave  them  to  be  dealt  with  by  the  law- 
ful authorities  ?" 

"The  sheriff  of  the  county  won't  move  in  the  matter 
at  present ;  he  is  after  sheep-stealers,  and  some  swindler 
who  is  expected  here  from  Melbourne." 

His  lordship  started  visibly  and  turned  pale. 

This,  however,  was  not  noticed  by  Mole. 

He  was  pouring  himself  out  a  third  tumbler  of  brandy 
and  water. 

"Do  you  get  many  bad  characters  in  these  parts?" 
asked  his  lordship. 

"A  few  ;  but  we  soon  drive  them  out,"  was  the  reply. 

"  What  becomes  of  them  ?  " 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


271 


"  Oh,  they  either  go  to  jail  or  join  the  bushrangers." 

"If  I  were  you  or  Harkaway,  I  should  leave  those 
gentry  alone." 

"  We  would  gladly  fold  up  our  tents,  as  it  were,  and 
depart  in  peace,"  said  Mole;  "But,  unfortunately,  they 
have  captured  and  hold  prisoner  a  black  boy  of  ours." 

"Only  a  native?  " 

"  He  is  a  great  favourite  of  young  Jack  Harkaway,  and 
so  scrupulous  is  the  father's  sense  of  honour,  that  he  will 
not  leave  him  behind." 

"Then  you  will  have  to  fight  again?" 

"No  help  for  it,"  Mole  answered.  "Battered  as  lam, 
and  deprived  of  my  legs,  I  rather  like  it." 

"  How  did  you  lose  your  lower  limbs  ? " 

"Inaction,  my  lord,"  said  Mole,  proudly.  "I  have 
fought  savages  and  pirates,  on  land  and  sea. " 

"  How  brave  you  must  be." 

"Ah  !  I  shudder  sometimes  when  I  think  of  the  number 
of  men  I  have  killed — hundreds,  my  lord." 

"You  would  have  been  a  general  if  you  had  been  in 
the  army,  and  have  had  medals  and  crosses." 

"Some  day  I  shall  write  my  life.  That  will  make  me 
famous  all  over  the  world." 

"  I  wish  you  would  dedicate  the  work  to  me,"  exclaimed 
Lord  Bankside. 

"Thanks,  my  lord;  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure.  Your 
condescension  is  most  gracious,"  replied  Mole. 

He  was  highly  delighted  at  the  compliment. 

The  afternoon  passed  very  agreeably  in  conversation. 

Mole  invited  Harkaway  and  Harvey  to  dinner,  and 
Lord  Bankside  took  great  pains  to  please. 

He  was  voted  a  good  fellow,  all  being  pleased  to  have 
met  him. 

The  company  separated  at  a  late  hour.  Mole  con- 
ducted his  lordship  to  his  room,  wished  him  good-night, 
and,  taking  a  stiff  glass  for  the  last,  the  worthy  professor 
sought  his  own  bed,  being  soon  in  the  land  of  dreams. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  when  he  awoke. 

Hastily  dressing  himself,  he  proceeded  to  his  lordship's 
room  to  call  him  to  breakfast. 

To  his  surprise,  the  door  was  open. 

This  was  not  very  extraordinary,  for  Lord  Bankside 
scnight  have  risen  early,  and  gone  for  a  walk. 


272  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

But  Mole's  countenance  fell  when  he  noticed  that  the  bed 
had  not  been  slept  in. 

What  could  it  mean  ? 

Had  he  been  deceived  in  the  real  character  of  his  Eng* 
lish  nobleman  ? 

"Perish  the  thought,"  he  said  to  himself. 

After  making  such  a  fuss  over  Lord  Bankside,  he  would 
be  the  laughing-stock  of  the  town. 

Every  body  would  make  fun  of  him. 

Especially  would  this  be  the  case  with  Harkaway. 

He  went  down  stairs  in  no  easy  or  enviable  state  of 
mind. 

At  the  front  door  he  encountered  Harkaway. 

"Good-morning,  sir,"  he  exclaimed.  "Whose  soap 
have  you  used  ?  " 

"The  same  as  usual,"  replied  Mole.  "Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"You  look  rather  black." 

"  I — the  fact  is,  I'm  a  trifle  upset." 

"Indeed!  How  is  the  newly-imported,  gilt-edged 
peer,  with  whom  we  had  the  distinguished  honour  of  din- 
ing last  evening,  and  whose  tales  of  upper-crust  society 
are  still  ringing  in  my  ears  ?  " 

"I  haven't  seen  his  lordship  yet." 

"He  lies  late — quality  hours." 

"It  isn't  that,"  said  Mole,  in  perplexity.  "I  saw  him 
to  his  room  last  night." 

"Well  ?  "  ejaculated  Harkaway. 

"Lo  and  behold  !  this  morning  he  is  not  there." 

"Gone  for  a  walk,  perhaps," 

"The  bed  has  not  been  slept  in." 

Harkaway  indulged  in  a  prolonged  whistle. 

Whe — ew  ! 

"That  looks  dickey,"  he  exclaimed.  "There  is  some 
thing  quizby,  as  they  say,  about  it.  He  may  have  landed 
you  in  Queer  Street. " 

"  Oh,  no,"  Mole  answered ;  "  too  much  the  gentleman. 
No  danger  about  that." 

"But  where  is  he  ?" 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  want  to  know." 

"Gone  where  the  woodbine  twineth,  I'll  bet  you  a 
dollar. " 

"  Oh,  he'll  be  back  directly." 

Mole  said  this,  trying  to  comfort  himself. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


273 


"Where  did  you  pick  the  fellow  up  ?   or,  where  did  he 
pick  you  up  ?  "     Harkaway  enquired. 

"It  was  an  accidental  meeting,  between  here  and  Mas- 
don,  on  the  road. " 

"  Who  spoke  first  ?  " 

"He  did,  asking  the  way  to  Harkawayville.     I  was 
driving  and  offered  him  a  lift." 

"  Rash — very  rash." 

"  He  had  a  flask  of  Scotch — special,    you  know ;  so 
had  I." 

"  You  always  have." 

"  We  exchanged  drinks,"  continued  Mole. 

"And  confidences?" 

"Exactly.      I  told  him  all  about  you  and  myself.     He, 
in  return,  told  me  who  he  was." 

"And  you  believed  him  ?  " 

"Most  implicitly.      Wouldn't  you  have  done  the  same 
thing  ?  "  asked  the  puzzled  professor. 

"Not  much.      Have  you  looked  at  your  money-box, 
treasure-chest,  or  whatever  you  call  it. " 

"Not  since  yesterday,  in  the  afternoon  ;  I  showed  his 
lordship  the  nuggets." 

Harkaway  put  his  hand  on  Mole's  shoulder. 

He  looked  intently  in  his  eyes. 

"  Isaac  Mole,"  he  said,  "  when  were  you  born  ?  " 

"Let   me   think,"    replied   the    professor.       "In    the 
year " 

"Never  mind.     Will  you  ever  learn  anything?" 

"I  can  speak  five  languages." 

"You're  a  mug,"  exclaimed   Harkaway,  "and  I  tell 
you  so  to  your  face." 

Mr.  Mole  pushed  him  away. 

"This  language,  my  dear  boy — for  such  you  will  al- 
ways be  to  me — is  both  vulgar  and  undeserved,"  he  said. 

"Come  and  look  at  your  money-box,"  replied  Hark- 
away. 

"By  all  means  ;  but  to  suspect  Lord  Bankside " 

"Call  him  Lord  Humbug." 

"I  will  not  hear  one  word  against  a  witty,  polished, 
and  accomplished  nobleman." 

"You  are  responsible  for  him." 

"I  fully  accept  the  responsibility.     Bankside  is  a  Nor- 
man title.     It  was  created  by  the  Conqueror." 
18 


274  JACK  HAKKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"Who  told  you  so  ?  " 

"  I  had  it  from  his  own  lips." 

;'  Gospel  truth,  I  expect,"  said  Harkaway. 

"Of  course.  Who  can  doubt  it?  Thirty  thousand  a 
year,  a  castle,  two  baronial  halls " 

"Drop  it." 

"My  dear  fellow,  I  can  only  call  you  an  unbelieving 
pagan,"  cried  Mole,  angrily. 

"Keep  your  temper." 

"  I  can't ;  you  are  so  awfully  aggravating." 

"Look  at  your  nuggets." 

Mr.  Mole,  in  high  dudgeon,  led  the  way  to  his  private 
foom. 

The  box  was  unlocked. 

He  had  closed  it  on  the  previous  day,  but  forgotton  to 
i  irn  the  key. 

Kneeling  down,  he  threw  up  the  lid. 

There,  to  all  outward  appearance,  was  the  glittering 
nuggets  piled  up  to  the  top  of  the  chest. 

With  the  greediness  of  a  miser,  Mole  gloated  over  his 
treasure. 

His  mouth  expanded  with  a  satisfied  triumphant  smile. 

His  eyes  spoke  volumes  of  contentment. 

"What  did  I  tell  you  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"It  looks  all  right,"  said  Harkaway    "but " 

He  broke  off  abruptly. 

"  What  now,  sceptic  ?  " 

"Look  at  this." 

Harkaway  stooped  down  and  picked  up  a  piece  of 
some  shining  stuff  which  was  lying  on  the  floor. 

Mr.  Mole  rose  and  also  looked  at  it. 

"Why,"  he  cried,    'it  looks  like — yes,  it  is — gold  leaf." 

"Exactly;  the  thing  that  carvers  and  gilders  use  in 
their  trade." 

"The  very  same.  But  what  of  it?  Nothing  !  You 
can't  make  any  thing  of  that." 

"Wait  a  bit." 

"  I  tell  you  Lord  Bankside  is  above  suspicion.  Let  us 
to  breakfast.  What  time  is  it  ? " 

He  felt  in  his  pocket  for  his  watch. 

It  was  a  valuable  one  he  had  bought  in  Melbourne. 

That  and  the  chain  had  cost  seventy-five  sovereigns. 

The  watch  and  chain  were  both  gone. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


275 


"Jumping  Moses!."  exclaimed  he,  "the — the  clock's 
gone  !  " 

"  Did  you  have  it  last  night  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

"Wound  it  up  before  I  went  to  bed." 

"Lock  your  door?" 

"No,  left  it  open,  because  of  the  heat." 

"Coat  and  vest  on  the  back  of  a  chair?" 

"  No,  on  the  end  of  the  bed." 

"Humph!  Fine  fellow,  Lord  Bankside,"  said  Hark- 
away,  with  a  chuckle. 

"  Don't  chaff,"  replied  Mole,  testily.  "Leave  off  your 
infernal  fooling." 

"Came  in  with  the  Conqueror?" 

"So  he  did.     I  defy  you  to  disprove  it." 

"I've  been  looking  at  a  peerage,  and  there's  no  such 
title  in  it." 

"  What!" 

Mr.  Mole's  face  became  as  long  as  a  farthing  kite. 

"  Fact  You  are  done  brown  !  Sold  for  old  junk  ! 
Skinned  !  Had  for  a  jay  !  " 

"  Do-n't  tell  me  that,"  stammered  Mole. 

"It  is  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff,  or  the  sun  at  noonday." 

"But  the  nuggets ?  " 

"Hold  on  a  bit." 

As  he  spoke,  Harkaway  bent  down,  and,  taking  up  one 
of  the  nuggets,  rubbed  it  against  his  sleeve. 

A  lot  of  gold  leaf  rolled  off. 

The  hard  surface  of  a  stone — a  common  stone,  was 
revealed. 

He  plunged  his  hand  in,  lower  down,  and  found  noth- 
ing but  stones  of  various  sizes.  These  were  not  gilded. 

It  was  only  a  few  on  the  surface  that  had  been  treated 
to  the  luxury  of  gold  leaf,  put  on  with  some  adhesive 
substance. 

This  was  either  size  or  paste. 

Mole  threw  up  his  arms. 

"Oh,  my  nuggets  !  "  he  screamed,  in  a  broken  voice. 
"Swindled,  and  by  a  nobleman  !  " 

He  would  stick  to  it,  that  his  friend  was  a  lord. 

"A  common  thief,"  replied  Harkaway. 

"  Sad  that  it  should  be  so.  I  can  ill  afford  it.  My  gold 
gone,  my  watch  vanished." 

"  He  must  have  mesmerised  you." 


276  I*  CK  HARKWAA  Y  AND  HIS  SON*S 

"Quite  a  gentleman,  wasn't  he?  " 

' '  Spare  me.     Don't  rub  it  in. " 

"  Be  generous.™ 

As  he  spoke,  Mole  sank  down  on  the  top  of  the  stones, 
leaning  against  the  lid  of  the  box. 

He  was  exhausted  by  grief,  vexation,  and  emotion. 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  Harkaway.  "It's  not  a  bad 
joke. " 

"If  you  don't  get  out,  I'll — I'll  chuck  stones  at  you," 
threatened  Mole. 

"Nuggets,  you  mean — gilt  ones." 

"Be  off  out  of  my  sight.  Do,  for  Heaven's  sake,  give 
me  a  rest." 

Harkaway  walked  to  the  door. 

When  he  got  to  the  step,  he  saw  young  Jack  running 
up,  followed  by  a  small  crowd  of  people. 

"  I  say,  dad,"  he  cried,  "here's  a  go." 

"  What's  up,  young  one?"  Harkaway  asked. 

"  Miles,  the  saddler,  has  had  his  horse  and  trap  stolen 
in  the  night." 

"Any  more  of  it?" 

"  The  bank's  been  robbed,  and  all  the  cash  is  gone." 

"Is  that  the  lot?" 

"All  I've  heard  of  at  present.  Folks  want  to  see  that 
English  lord  of  Mole's." 

"  They'll  have  to  take  it  out  in  wanting." 

"I  thought  so  ;  has  he " 

"Bolted  ? "  interrupted  Harkaway.  "That's  it  exactly ; 
collared  Mole's  watch  and  his  nuggets." 

"Oh,  crumbs!"  said  young  Jack,  nearly  choking. 
"What  price,  noblemen?" 

"  Quote  them  at  a  discount,"  replied  a  melancholy  voice 
at  his  elbow. 

It  was  Professor  Mole. 

He  looked  like  a  ghost  who  had  been  writing  some 
cheerful  sort  of  literature,  such  as  "Letters  from  Hades." 

Young  Jack  roared  with  laughter. 

A  crowd  soon  collected  round  the  door. 

The  matter  was  explained  to  them  by  Harkaway. 

It  was  clear  to  all  that  Mole  had  been  imposed  upon  by 
a  clever  swindler,  who  had  utilised  the  night  for  the  pur- 
poses of  robbing. 

From  the  bank  he  had  taken  five  hundred  pounds. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  277 

In  the  horse  and  trap  he  had  stolen  he  had  decamped 
with  his  spoil  to  parts  unknown. 

Derisive  shouts  rang  in  Mole's  ears. 

He  was  the  victim  of  well-deserved  ridicule. 

Sadly  he  turned  to  Harkaway. 

"Tell  me  in  mournful  numbers  that  life  is  but  an  empty 
dream,"  he  said. 

"And  all  is  not  gold  that  glitters,"  answered  Harkaway, 
slyly,  thinking  of  the  nuggets. 

Mole  shut  his  door  and  disappeared. 

The  crowd  dispersed. 

Harkaway  and  his  son  walked  away  together,  greatly 
amused  at  the  adventure. 

It  would  be  a  standing  joke  against  the  professor  as 
long  as  he  lived. 

What  had  become  of  the  false  lord,  nobody  could  tell. 

A  messenger,  however,  was  despatched  on  a  fleet  horse 
to  Masdon,  to  inform  Sheriff  HardrorJc  of  what  had  taken 
place. 

It  was  hoped  that  the  plausible  villain  would  be  cap- 
tured. 

But  the  country  was  so  vast  and  so  sparsely  settled  that 
he  had  a  good  chance  of  escape. 

The  night  passed  without  any  thing  occurring. 

Early  in  the  morning,  young  Jack,  Harry  Girdwood, 
and  Monday  secretly  left  the  settlement. 

Young  Jack  left  a  letter  for  his  father,  informing  him 
that  they  intended  to  plunge  into  the  bush,  and  rescue 
Tinker  at  all  hazards. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

WHAT  HAPPENED  IN  THE  BUSH — LORD  BANKSIDE  MEETS  WITH  OLD 
ACQUAINTANCES. 

WHEN  he  quitted  the  flourishing  tow  of  Harkawayville 
with  the  booty  he  had  appropriated  at  the  expense  of  Mr. 
Mole,  the  bank,  and  others,  the  self-termed  LorkBankside 
drove  rapidly  away  in  the  staden  trap. 

He  took  the  direction  of  the  bush. 

Here  he  knew  he  would  be  safe  for  a  time ;  but,  in  any 


2  78  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

inhabited  place,  his  capture  would  only  be  a  question  of 
time. 

Lord  Bankside  was  an  assumed  name. 

The  fellow  who  personated  the  English  nobleman,  and 
had  deceived  many  persons,  was,  in  reality,  a  convict — 
Ted  Hammond. 

He  was  born  in  London,  had  been  a  gentleman's  servant, 
in  which  capacity  he  committed  a  daring  robbery  upon 
his  employer. 

For  this  offence  he  was  transported  for  life,  but,  manag- 
ing to  escape,  he  commenced  to  depredate  in  Australia. 

Ted  Hammond  became  a  notorious  criminal,  and  was 
known  under  various  aliases. 

Up  to  the  present  time  he  had  defied  all  efforts  to  cap- 
ture him. 

Sometimes  he  would  be  heard  of  in  Sydney,  or  some 
part  of  New  South  Wales. 

A  few  weeks  afterwards,  he  would  be  operating  in  Mel- 
bourne or  Adelaide. 

Then  he  would  go  up  country,  and  the  bold  rascal  soon 
bestowed  his  patronage  upon  New  Zealand. 

Wherever  he  went,  there  was  a  tale  to  be  told  of  fraud, 
robbery,  and  murder. 

Wild  as  the  bush  was,  he  knew  how  to  hide  and  exist 
in  it  for  weeks  at  a  time. 

The  authorities  were  straining  every  nerve  to  catch  him, 
but  Ted  Hammond  was  determined  to  baffle  them  if  he 
could. 

When  he  struck  into  the  main  road,  which,  for  some 
distance,  ran  alongside  the  bush  region,  it  was  broad 
daylight. 

A  rosy  flush,  which  deepened  into  bands  of  gold, 
streaked  the  eastern  horizon. 

Already  he  had  placed  a  dozen  miles  between  Hark- 
awayville  and  himself. 

The  rascal  could  not  help  chuckling  when  he  thought 
of  how  cleverly  and  completely  he  had  outwitted  and 
taken  in  Professor  Mole. 

"  I  bluffed  that  old  rooster,  and  no  mistake  !  "  he  mut- 
tered. "He  got  the  proper  tip  from  me — ha,  ha  !  " 

He  laughed  till  the  adjacent  overhanging  gum  trees 
echoed  with  his  merriment. 

Suddenly  he  pulled  the  reins  and  stopped  short. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


279 


A  dark  lonely  part  of  the  road  had  been  reached. 

It  was  close  to  the  spot  where  the  attempt  by  the  bush- 
i^ngers  to  lynch  Rook  had  been  made. 

Ted  Hammond,  alias  Lord  Bankside,  appeared  to  be 
f«miliai  with  the  locality. 

Stepping  out  of  the  trap,  he  took  from  it  a  sack  which 
contained  the  gold  and  nuggets  he  had  stolen. 

He  put  this  over  his  shoulder,  and  staggering  under  its 
weight,  entered  the  bush. 

Walking  about  half-a-mile,  he  came  to  a  hollow  tree,  in 
which  he  deposited  his  treasure. 

It  fell  to  the  bottom,  and  was  securely  hidden  from  pry- 
ing eyes. 

Having  accomplished  this  task,  he  stooped  down,  and 
drank  from  a  bubbling  spring  that  came  out  of  the  earth  at 
his  feet. 

Then,  pushing  aside  some  bushes,  he  disclosed  a  small 
hut,  built  of  boughs  and  dry  grass. 

Entering  this,  he  looked  around.  In  a  corner  were 
some  tins  of  meat  and  fish,  two  bottles  of  spirits,  and  a 
bag  of  flour,  with  a  plate  or  two,  and  a  cup. 

"All  as  1  lett  it,"  he  said. 

It  was  a  hiding-place  of  his,  and  had  proved  a  safe 
refuge  when  hotly  chased. 

He  hastened  back  to  the  road  ;  the  horse  was  standing 
where  he  had  left  it. 

Getting  in,  he  drove  a  couple  of  miles  up  the  road, 
stopping  at  a  lonely  tavern,  which  rejoiced  in  the  title  of 
"The  Bully  Boy."' 

The  landlord,  by  name  Garrat,  was  standing  outside, 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  whistling  to  some  pigeons. 

"Morning,  stranger.     Come  far?  "  he  asked. 

"A  tidy  distance,"  replied  Hammond,  mentioning  a 
place  which  was  a  long  way  off,  and  in  a  direction  opposite 
to  that  from  which  he  had  started. 

"  What's  your  business  ? " 

"I'm  a  woolstapler  for  this  season.  I  have  made  all 
the  purchases  I  want,  and  I'm  going  to  Melbourne,  where 
my  warehouse  is." 

"  You  can  take  the  cars  at  Masdon.  I  reckon  that's 
your  nearest  point." 

"So  I  was  told.     How  far  is  that  from  this  shanty  ?  " 


28o  JA  CK  HARKA  WAY  AND  HIS  SOJV'S 

"I  could  walk  it  in  an  hour  and  a  half,"  the  landlord 
answered.  "Call  it  five  miles." 

"  What  sort  of  a  town  is  it  ?  "  inquired  Hammond. 

He  pretended  to  be  a  stranger,  though  he  knew  the 
place  well  enough. 

"  You  can't  call  it  A  i,  first-class,  copper-bottomed," 
was  the  reply.  "  There  is  about  as  much  money  as  there 
is  enterprise  there,  and  that's  devilish  little." 

"That's  bad  to  hear." 

"  Why  so,  stranger  ?  " 

"  I  had  hoped  to  trade  off  this  horse  and  trap  to  some 
advantage.  You  see,  I  am  through  my  work,  and  have 
no  more  use  for  it.  Do  you  twig?  " 

"  It  don't  take  me  long  to  tumble.  I'll  trade  with  you, 
if  I  can,"  cried  Garrat.  "  Don't  open  your  mouth  too 
wide.  I'm  a  fair  judge  of  a  nag.  What's  your  price  ?  " 

"  For  the  lot,  as  it  stands,  harness  thrown  in,  I'll  take 
fifty  pounds. " 

Garrat  shook  his  head. 

"That  cat  won't  jump,"  he  said.  "It's  too  much  by 
half." 

"Goon.  Man  alive,  where's  your  conscience?  Why 
the  horse  is  worth  all  the  money.  It's  dirt  cheap  at  the 
price.  I'm  giving  it  away,  and  robbing  myself." 

"  That's  what  you  say.     Take  thirty  ?  " 

"  Is  that  the  highest  you  will  offer?  " 

"Can't  spring  a  farthing  more,"  replied  the  landlord. 

"All  right  ;  you  set  up  the  drinks,  and  the  turn-out's 
yours, "  said  Hammond. 

He  got  out,  and  secured  the  reins  to  the  hitching-post. 

He  was  about  to  follow  the  landlord  to  the  bar  (for,  in 
those  days,  nothing  could  be  done  in  Australia  without  a 
drink  to  bind  the  bargain  and  show  good  fellowship), 
when  a  diversion  occurred. 

A  man  rode  clattering  up  on  a  powerful  chestnut  horse, 
and  looked  intently  at  Hammond. 

He  took  a  photograph  from  his  pocket  and  gazed  at  that. 
.  Evidently  he  was  comparing  the  two  forms  and  faces. 

Hammond's  hand  sought  the  hip-pocket  of  his  trousers. 

This  was  a  sure  sign  that  his  fingers  were  gripping  the 
handle  of  a  pistol. 

"Take  care,  my  man,"  cried  the  new-comer,  imitating 
his  example ;  "I  am  the  sheriff  of  this  county." 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  281 

It  was  Hardrock  himself. 

"I  don't  care  a  bad  farthing  who  you  are,"  replied 
Hammond.  "What  right  have  you  to  interfere  with 
me?" 

"The  right  my  position  as  representative  of  the  law 
gives  me." 

"Explain  yourself." 

"  I  know  you,  Ted  Hammond,"  was  the  ready  rejoinder. 
"You'll  have  to  come  with  me." 

"Shall  I?  "  asked  the  ruffian,  with  sarcastic  emphasis. 

"  Hold  up  your  hands  !  " 

This  would  be  a  token  of  surrender,  indicating  that  he 
did  not  intend  to  shoot. 

But  the  convict  was  not  to  be  caught  so  easily. 

He  would  rather  have  died  than  be  sent  to  prison 
again. 

He  was  a  "  lifer"  or  a  "corpse,"  as  the  prisoners  term 
it,  and  if  relegated  to  jail,  he  would  be  so  closely  ironed 
and  watched  that  he  would  stand  no  chance  of  escaping  a 
second  time. 

"Surrender,  and  I'll  treat  you  well,"  continued  Hard- 
rock. 

"I'm  dashed  if  I  do,"  replied  Hammond.  "Draw  on 
me,  and  you're  a  dead  man." 

"My  duty  is  the  first  thing  with  me.  Garrat,  I  calf 
upon  you  to  assist  me  in  carrying  out  the  law." 

The  landlord  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

He  stood  on  the  threshold  of  the  door,  out  of  the  way. 

Well  he  knew  how  bullets  had  a  way  of  straying  about, 
and  hitting  an  innocent  person. 

"Leave  me  out,  mister,"  he  exclaimed.  "I  wasn't 
born  for  thief-catching.  It's  as  much  as  I  can  do  to  catch 
a  living  out  of  the  few  customers  that  come  this  way." 

"  I'll  be  a  mark  on  you  if  you  don't  help  me." 

"It  will  be  my  misfortune,  and  I'll  have  to  put  up  with 
it." 

Hammond  laughed. 

"You're  fairly  cornered,  sheriff,"  he  said.  "  If  you 
don't  ride  off  on  other  business,  I'll  get  the  drop  on  you, 
before  you  can  move  a  finger,  so  help  me." 

"  I'll  not  going  to  be  beaten  by  you." 

"  If  you  want  to  see  who's  best  man,  we'll  fight  it  out," 
cried  Hammond. 


282  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"I'm  ready,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

Quick  as  lightning  the  men  drew  their  revolvers. 

Ted  Hammond  had  the  advantage  of  being  prepared, 
and  had  his  weapon  in  the  air  three  seconds  before  his 
opponent. 

Three  seconds  only  ! 

It's  a  very  brief  space,  but  of  incalculable  value  to  a 
man  who  is  fighting  a  duel  to  the  death. 

There  was  a  sharp  report  on  the  crisp  morning  air. 

It  was  followed  by  another. 

Then  came  a  cry  of  pain  from  Hardrock  and  a  hollow, 
sepulchral  laugh  from  Hammond. 

The  latter  was  unhurt,  but  he  had  hit  the  sheriff  in  the 
shoulder. 

Each  pistol  had  seven  chambers. 

On  being  discharged,  it  follows  that  the  men  had 
twelve  shots  left  to  fire  between  them. 

They  wasted  no  time  in  the  deadly  game. 

Hardrock  fired  first  this  time,  and  his  bullet  went  so  close 
to  the  desperado  as  to  graze  his  ear. 

The  next  minute  Hammond's  ball  sank  into  his  breast, 
and  with  a  groan  he  fell  off  his  horse,  striking  the  ground 
heavily. 

Thoroughly  frightened,  the  animal  rushed  madly  up 
the  road,  and  leaping  a  fence,  disappeared  across,  a 
meadow. 

Hammond  repocketed  his  pistol.  Garrat  walked  up  to 
the  sheriff,  and  lifted  his  head. 

"I'm  dying!"  murmured  Hardrock,  as  the  blood 
trickled  from  his  lips. 

"It's  a  pity,  but  I  couldn't  stop  it,"  exclaimed  Garrat. 

Folding  his  arms,  Hammond  looked  sternly  and  un- 
pityingly  at  his  victim. 

"He  would  have  it,"  he  remarked.  "Why  didn't  he 
leave  me  alone?  If  he'd  walked  on,  winking  the  other 
eye,  do  you  think  I  should  have  touched  him  ?" 

"I  know  thundering  well  you  wouldn't.  He's  at  his 
last  gasp.  What'll  I  do  ?  " 

"Draw  him  up  against  the  wall,  and  put  a  log  under 
his  head  for  a  pillow.  You  can't  do  more." 

"  It's  bad  to  leave  him  like  this,  till  it's  all  over,"  said 
the  landlord  of  the  "Bully  Boy,"  in  a  deprecating  tone. 

"You    are   a   soft,"  replied  Hammond,   with    a   cold- 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  283 

blooded  smile.  "I  sha'n't  waste  any  sympathy  over 
him.  He  would  have  shot  me  if  he  could  have  aimed 
straight  enough.  Let's  liquor  up." 

Garrat  made  no  further  remonstrance,  nor  did  he 
hesitate. 

Drawing  the  sheriff  up  against  the  wall  of  his  house, 
he  put  a  clump  of  wood  under  his  head. 

With  a  curt  "Wish  you  luck,  old  son,"  he  followed  the 
convict,  who  marched  behind  the  bar,  and  coolly  helped 
himself  to  his  favourite  brand  of  whisky. 

"Join  me?  "  the  latter  asked. 

"I'm  not  taking  any,"  replied  Garrat.  "It's  made 
me  feel  queer." 

"Good-day.  I'm  off,"  said  Hammond.  "You  can 
tell  the  folks  that  I've  gone  to  the  Parramatta  River,  and 
sha'n't  be  seen  in  these  parts  again  for  some  time. " 

"All  right.  Did  you  know  Sue  Morgan? — Fighting 
Sue,  they  call  her." 

"What !  the  bushranger's  wife ?  " 

"That's  the  one.  Morgan's  dead,  you  know,  but  Sue's 
up  in  the  bush  close  by  with  Morgan's  brother  Bob,  and 
a  gang  of  nine." 

"You  don't  say  it  !" 

As  he  spoke,  astonishment  was  plainly  visible  on  his 
face. 

"I  don't  blame  you,  sonny,  for  fighting  for  your  liberty. 
Hardrock  would  have  shown  you  no  mercy.  Take 
another  drink,"  continued  Garrat. 

They  both  helped  themselves. 

"I  knew  Morgan,  his  wife,  and  several  of  his  men," 
remarked  the  convict,  "and  I  fancy  I've  seen  your  face 
somewhere. " 

"  Yours  is  familiar  to  me.     Where  have  we  met  ?  " 

"I've  been  in  trouble." 

"You?" 

"Yes.  I  was  put  away  for  horse-stealing.  I  did  time 
before  I  came  out  here." 

"  That's  it.     We  must  have  met  in  chokey. " 

"I  don't  mind  telling  you.  It  was  a  five  stretch.  Oh, 
yes,  I've  had  the  steel.  The  key's  been  turned  on  me." 

" So  you  can  feel  for  a  chap  when  he's  hard  pressed? " 

"You  bet,"  replied  Garrat.  "I  wasn't  going  to  lend 
Hardrock  a  helping  hand  to  lag  a  pal." 


284  JACK.  HA RKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"Thank  you." 

"There  will  be  a  devil  of  a  stir  about  this  affair.' 

44 1  know  there  will,  worse  luck." 

4 'If  you  take  my  tip,   you'll  make  for  the  bush, 
join  the  rangers  for  a  time. " 

"Where  are  they?" 

' '  Their  camp  is  about  ten  miles  due  south  from  here. 
They  are  customers  of  mine.  Bob  Morgan  was  here  last 
night,  with  Cross-eyed  Mike.  Ever  met  him  ?  " 

"Well,  I  should  smile.  He  helped  me  to  escape,  just 
before  his  time  was  up." 

"What  may  your  name  be  ? "  asked  Garrat. 

"Ted  Hammond." 

"By  thunder!  is  that  so?  Why,  you've  the  biggest 
record  in  the  Colony." 

"What  do  you  think?"  replied  Hammond,  smiling 
again. 

As  is  the  case  with  great  criminals,  his  moral  sense 
was  blunted,  and  he  was  proud  of  his  offences. 

The  villain  had  broken  every  law  in  the  Decalogue,  and 
gloried  in  it. 

After  a  third  drink — his  capacity  for  whisky  was  un- 
limited— he  separated  from  Garrat,  and,  retracing  his 
steps,  entered  the  bush,  his  intention  being  to  join  the 
rangers,  and  seek  shelter  with  them. 

There  is  a  communion  amongst  criminals,  and  he  was 
confident  that  Mrs.  Morgan  and  her  men  would  receive 
him  with  open  arms. 

Being  in  want  of  sleep,  he  went  to  his  hiding-place, 
where  he  had  hidden  his  booty  in  the  hollow  tree,  and, 
reaching  his  hut,  made  a  breakfast  and  laid  down. 

In  a  few  minutes,  he  was  in  a  sound  slumber.  The 
murder  of  Hardrock  did  not  appear  to  disturb  his  mind  in 
the  slightest  degree. 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  285 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 

THE   RESCUE    PARTY   AND   THE    SEARCH    FOR    TINKER. 

TED  HAMMOND  had  not  been  asleep  in  his  hut  more  than 
a  couple  of  hours,  before  young-  Jack,  Harry  Girdwood, 
and  Monday  walked  into  the  bush  at  the  same  point  that 
he  did. 

They  looked  well  and  fit — in  fact,  they  were  in  form  to 
do  any  thing,  and  go  any  where. 

Their  knapsacks  were  well  filled  with  food,  and  their 
canteens  with  fresh  water. 

Each  had  a  cartridge  belt,  containing  thirty  rounds  for 
their  breech-loading  rifles.  Their  revolvers  and  knives 
were  stuck  in  their  belts. 

Monday  soon  began  to  hunt  about  like  a  dog. 

His  back  was  bent,  his  head  lowered,  and  he  carefully 
scrutinised  the  grass,  and  the  twigs  on  the  bushes. 

"  What's  he  up  to  ? "  asked  Harry. 

"Don't  you  see? — he's  hunting.  That's  his  way — 
looking  for  tracks,  you  know,"  Jack  answered. 

"Oh,  that's  his  game  !     Will  he  find  any  thing?" 

"  Leave  him  alone  for  that." 

Suddenly  Monday  sat  down  on  the  ground,  and  burst 
out  laughing. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  old  Ivory?"  inquired 
Jack. 

"Yah  !  yah  !  "  replied  Monday. 

"You've  gone  off  that  onion  of  yours,  haven't  you?" 

"Not  muchly,  Mast'  Jack.  Um  think  um  in  Limbi 
again. " 

"  Have  you  found  the  scent  ?  " 

"For  certain.  The  pusson  I's  following  don't  know 
how  to  cover  up  um  tracks. " 

"  Is  there  only  one  ? " 

"Ain't  that  nuff  to  begin  with?  P'raps  lead  to  the 
whole  shoot  of  the  rangers. " 

"  That's  very  likely.     Are  the  tracks  fresh  ?  " 

"All  in  the  morning  dew.  Hold  um  rifles  tight.  This 
child  will  go  first. " 


286  JA  CK  HARKA  WAY  AND  HIS  SON'S 

' '  As  you  are  experienced,  we  will  leave  the  manage  • 
ment  of  the  campaign  to  you,"  said  young  Jack. 

"Your  father  open  urn  eyes  when  we  bag  the  lot,  am', 
get  that  boy  Tinker. " 

"I  should  like  to  have  the  credit  of  it." 

"So  you  shall,  sar.  Say  you  did  it  all.  Old  Ebon} 
do  nothing." 

"Oh,  I  won't  be  so  mean  as  that." 

"Come  on,  sar.     Quick  march.     I's  got  um  now." 

So  saying,  Monday  started  on  the  trail  he  had  dis 
covered,  at  a  rapid  pace. 

That  is  to  say,  it  was  rapid,  taking  into  consideration 
the  difficulties  of  the  ground  that  had  to  be  encountered, 
and  the  necessity  for  faithfully,  and  unerringly  pursuing 
the  track. 

But  this  seemed  as  easy  as  child's-play  to  the  Limbian, 
when  he  had  once  struck  it. 

Young  Jack  and  Harry  followed  in  his  footsteps. 

For  an  hour  they  worked  their  weary  way  through  the 
apparently  interminable  bush.  Then  Monday  halted, 
and  held  up  his  hand. 

"Here  we  have  the  old  fox,"  he  whispered.  "This 
um  den." 

"Can  we  help  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

"No.  Stand  by  to  fire,  if  necessary.  You  pretty  good 
shots.  Don't  hit  um  Monday." 

"If  we  do,  we'll  hit  you  in  a  soft  place,  where  it  won't 
hurt  much." 

"  You  nice  little  joker.     What  price  you  ?  " 

"  More  than  you  can  afford.'' 

"Shut  up  um  mouth,  the  show  going  to  begin.  You 
hear  music  by  the  band  soon." 

Monday,  as  he  spoke,  opened  his  capacious  mouth, 
and  grinned. 

The  boys  presented  their  rifles  at  nothing  in  particular. 

At  present  they  could  not  see  any  thing. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  an  exciting  moment. 

Monday  had  fallen  on  his  hands  and  knees. 

He  was  slowly  crawling  towards  a  roughly-made  hut, 
consisting  of  boughs,  stakes,  and  grass. 

Pausing  at  the  entrance,  which  was  little  more  than  a 
hole,  he  peered  in. 

He  had  laid  his  rifle  down,  as  it  would  have  been  of 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRALIA.  2%y 

no  use  to  him  at  close  quarters.  But  he  was  amply  pro- 
tected. 

Between  his  teeth  was  his  sharp,  Malay  creese,  which 
he  had  always  retained. 

In  his  belt  was  his  pistol,  which  he  could  seize  in  an 
instant. 

Suddenly  he  darted  forward. 

There  was  a  sleeping  man  stretched  on  the  mossy 
sward  inside  the  hut. 

Throwing  himself  upon  him,  Monday  grasped  him  by 
the  throat,  and  pointed  his  knife  at  his  heart. 

"  You  move,  and  you's  a  dead  'un,"  said  Monday. 

The  man  stared  at  him,  but  did  not  attempt  to  resist 

"Come  on,  Mast'  Jack,"  cried  Monday.  "You's  got 
bit  ob  cord  in  your  pocket." 

Jack  was  quickly  by  his  side. 

He  comprehended  the  situation  in  a  moment. 

Producing  a  piece  of  hobbling  cord,  he  secured  the 
man's  arms  at  the  wrists. 

Monday  first  disarmed,  and  then  dragged  him  out  of  the 
dark  hut  into  the  glaring  sunshine. 

Directly  his  face  was  visible,  a  cry  of  astonishment 
broke  from  the  three. 

"  Golly  !  it  am  Lord  Bankside,"  said  Monday. 

He  was  right. 

They  had  captured  the  infamous  Ted  Hammond. 

Little  did  he  think  that  he  would  be  so  soon  tracked 
and  trapped. 

It  was  extremely  mortifying. 

He  had  not  had  time  to  fire  a  shot  in  self-defence. 

Naturally,  he  supposed  that  his  captors  had  heard  ot 
the  murder  of  the  sheriff. 

If  not,  they  would  hold  him  for  the  robbery  he  had  done 
at  Harkawayville. 

"Your  lordship  left  us  rather  unceremoniously,"  re- 
marked young  Jack. 

"The  game's  up,"  replied  Hammond.     "Don't  chaff/ 

"What  are  you  doing  here?  " 

"  111  make  a  clean  breast  of  it.  My  intention  was  \f» 
join  the  rangers." 

"Where  are  Mr.  Mole's  nuggets  and  the  money  yo» 
took  from  the  bank  ?  "  continued  young  Jack. 

"  If  I  tell  you,  will  you  let  me  go  free  ?  " 


288  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

There  was  a  supplicating  look  on  the  murderer's  face. 

As  yet,  it  must  be  recollected  that  young  Jack  and  his 
companions  knew  nothing  of  the  murder  of  the  sheriff. 

If  they  had  done  so,  they  would  not  have  been  likely 
to  make  any  terms  with  him. 

"  Look  here  !  "  exclaimed  Jack.  "Do  you  know  where 
the  bushrangers  are  ?  " 

"I  can  find  them,"  was  the  answer. 

"  How  long  will  it  take  you  to  do  so  ?  " 

"About  two  hours." 

"  If  you  will  conduct  us  to  their  camp  at  evening,  leave 
us  in  ambush,  and,  when  they  are  asleep,  steal  their  rifles 
and  pistols,  and  bring  them  to  us,  you  shall  be  at  liberty 
to  go  where  you  like,  and  nothing  shall  be  said." 

Hammond  looked  grave. 

"  That's  a  large  order,  mister,"  he  observed. 

"It's  a  generous  offer — take  it  or  leave  it,"  said  Jack. 

Some  hesitation  was  apparent  in  Hammond's  manner. 

First  of  all,  it  was  an  act  of  treachery  to  old  friends. 

There  is  a  rough  kind  of  honour  among  thieves. 

Secondly,  to  rob  nine  or  ten  men  of  their  arms,  even 
when  they  are  sleeping,  was  a  dangerous  task. 

But  his  liberty — his  life  was  at  stake. 

"  I'll  do  it !  "  he  exclaimed. 

The  bushrangers  and  their  queen  were  to  be  betrayed. 

Young  Jack  could  scarcely  conceal  his  satisfaction. 

He  was  on  the  high-road  to  the  rescue  of  Tinker. 

For  the  best  part  of  the  day  they  remained  where  they 
were,  comforting  themselves  with  Hammond's  stores  and 
whisky. 

Towards  nightfall  they  started  to  hunt  up  the  bush- 
rangers. 

It  was  an  adventure  full  of  peril. 

On  that  very  account  young  Jack  delighted  to  engage 
in  it 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA.  289 

CHAPTER  XLV. 

THE    BUSHRANGERS   ARE    BETRAYED. 

WHEN  night  fell,  and  the  sky  was  studded  with  stars, 
prominent  among  which  was  the  Southern  Cross,  young 
Jack  thought  it  was  time  to  be  moving. 

He  roused  Monday  and  Harry,  who  were  dozing. 

"  Time's  up,"  he  said. 

They  immediately  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  brought 
Ted  Hammond  out  of  the  hut. 

The  rope  that  bound  his  arms  was  cut. 

"I'm  ready,  master,"  he  exclaimed. 

"You  know  what  you  have  to  do  ?  "  said  young  Jack. 

"  Perfectly  well.  The  price  of  my  life  and  liberty  is  to 
betray  the  bushrangers.  I'll  do  it." 

"  If  you  try  to  play  me  false,  I  will  shoot  you  like  a 
dog. " 

"There's  no  necessity  for  that,  squire.  I'll  keep  to  my 
bargain." 

"  Do  so,  and  all  will  be  well,"  replied  Jack. 

The  convict  started  in  the  direction  pointed  out  by 
Garrat,  the  landlord  of  the  "Bully  Boy." 

This  was  the  only  clew  he  had  to  the  camp  of  the 
rangers. 

At  length  they  came  to  a  path,  that  was  pretty  well 
defined  by  constant  use. 

"Here  we  are,  boys,"  said  Hammond.  "I  knew  I 
should  strike  it." 

"What  you  talking  about?  "  asked  Monday. 

"Isn't  this  a  regular  trail?  That's  what  I  want  to 
know." 

"You  can't  most  always  generally  tell,"  replied  Mon- 
day. 

"Get  your  hair  cut,"  said  Hammond.  "I'm  no 
slouch. " 

"Where  does  the  path  lead  to ?  " 

' '  Up  to  the  rangers'  camp,  sonny. " 

Ted  Hammond  spoke  at  random. 

As  we  have  said,    he  had   no   positive   and    accurate 

'9 


290  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

knowledge  of  the  locality  in  which  Fighting  Sue  and  her 
band  of  desperadoes  were  established.  Yet  the  path 
looked  as  if  it  was  used  by  them. 

No  sooner  had  he  seen  it,  than  he  determined  to  follow 
it  up. 

"Stand  on  one  side  !  "  said  Monday.      "I  know  more 
about  this  thing  than  you  ever  learnt" 

"  What's  wrong  now  ?  "  Hammond  asked. 

"  It's  a  path,"   replied  Monday,    "and  some  body  has 
been  along  it  quite  fresh." 

They  both  looked  down,  and  peered  at  the  grass. 

Feet  had  trodden  it  down  within  an  hour  or  two. 

"There's  indication  of  that,"  observed  Hammond. 

"Can  you  make  anything  pertickler  out  of  um  marks?" 
inquired  Monday. 

Ted    Hammond    looked    carefully.       He    puzzled   his 
brains  ;  but  could  find  out  nothing. 

"Mast'  Jack,"   cried  Monday,  "this  chap's  an   awful 
duffer  ;  he  not  know  any  thing." 

"Have  you  discovered  any  thing  important  ?"  asked 
Jack. 

"  Suppose  um  camp  up  there  in  um  woods  ?  " 

He  pointed  to  the  heart  of  the  bush. 

"Yes,  I  understand." 

"Well,  two  people's  just  come  from  camp,  going  to- 
wards the  road,  and  they  not  come  back  again  yet. " 

"Ah!  "said  Jack.      "Two  of  the  rangers   may  have 
gone  to  get  supplies." 

"  May  be  hiding,"  Monday  answered.      "Look  out  you 
not  get  a  bullet  in  um  back." 

"  If  I  do,    it  can't  be  helped.     Follow    up   the   track. 
Quick  march ! " 
'  "  I'm  on  !     What  do  you  think  ? " 

Monday  followed  Hammond  closely. 

He  held  his  knife  in  his  hand,  resolved  to  stab  him  to 
the  heart  if  he  attempted  any  treachery. 

Behind,  with  rifles,  ready  for  use  at  a  moment's  notice, 
came  young  Jack  and  Harry. 

The  march  continued  for  about  an  hour. 

Suddenly  Ted   Hammond   halted,    and    held    up    his 
hand. 

^  A  crescent  moon  had  appeared  in  the  heavens,  and  its 
light,  added  to  that  of  the  stars,  made  caution  necessary. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


291 


The  three  behind  him  looked  through  the  bush. 

This  was  what  they  saw. 

The  bushrangers,  who  numbered  nearly  a  dozen,  were 
seated  on  the  grass,  or  stretched  out  at  full  length. 

Some  were  playing  cards  for  money,  others  smoking 
and  chatting. 

A  demijohn  of  whisky,  flanked  by  a  jar  of  pure  spring 
water,  was  placed  on  a  flat  stone,  which  did  duty  as  a  table. 

Daggersberg  was  perched,  like  a  bird,  on  the  stump  of 
a  tree,  which  had  been  broken  off  by  the  wind ;  he  was 
playing  a  lively  tune  on  an  old  violin. 

Close  by,  a  large  wood  fire  was  burning. 

This  was  really  wanted,  as  the  nights  were  chilly,  al- 
though the  days  were  warm. 

It  was  noticable  that  neither  Fighting  Sue  nor  Tinker 
were  to  be  seen. 

At  a  sign  from  Ted  Hammond  the  rescue  party  sank 
down  on  their  knees. 

Their  rifles  were  pressed  to  their  shoulders,  ready  for 
instant  use. 

The  convict  saw  that  each  one  was  presented  at  him. 

This  indicated  that  if  he  did  not  keep  his  part  of  the 
compact,  his  life  would  be  forfeited. 

A  fringe  of  bush  completely  hid  young  Jack  and  his 
companions  from  the  rangers. 

Daggersberg  finished  the  tune  he  was  playing,  and  his 
performance,  somewhat  crude  though  it  was,  received  a 
hearty  burst  of  applause. 

A  couple  of  mugs,  made  out  of  cows'  horns,  did  duty 
for  glasses,  and  were  filled  and  emptied  by  the  rangers, 
who,  after  walking  to  the  jars  to  quench  their  thirst,  re- 
sumed their  former  positions. 

All  at  once,  Ted  Hammond  stepped  forward. 

"Hullo  !  boys.     What  cheer?"  he  exclaimed. 

The  rangers  sprang  to  their  feet,  rifle  in  hand,  glaring 
fiercely  at  the  intruder. 

No  one  fired,  however,  because  their  leader,  Bob  Mor- 
gan, had  not  given  them  the  order  to  do  so. 

The  ruddy  light  of  the  fire  flashed  upon  the  convict's 
face,  throwing  its  rugged  outline  into  bold  relief. 
.  Morgan   had  been   in  close  conversation  with  Morris  ; 
their  countenances  were  at  once  illumined  with  a  smile 
when  they  noticed  Hammond. 


292  JACK  HARKAWAY  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

They  recognised  him  in  a  moment  as  an  old  friend  and 
a  desperado  on  whom  they  thought  they  could  rely. 

"  It's  Ted  Hammond  !  "  said  Morgan.  "I  didn't  know 
you  were  out." 

"They  couldn't  keep  me,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Bravo  !  You're  too  good  a  man  to  be  under  lock  and 
key,  wasting  your  blooming  life  in  a  prison." 

"Am  I  welcome?  " 

"As  the  flowers  in  May,  old  pal.  Sit  down,  and  take 
a  drink. " 

"Right!  I  want  to  change  my  breath.  I'll  have  a 
smile  with  you,  boys." 

So  saying,  Hammond  shook  hands  all  round,  and 
seated  himself. 

There  was  a  sacrificial,  hypocritical,  Judas-like  leer 
upon  his  face. 

The  bushrangers  did  not  notice  it,  however. 

They  had  not  the  slightest  idea  that  they  were  in  dan- 
ger. 

Ted  Hammond  was  the  last  man  in  the  world  they 
would  have  suspected  of  plotting  their  betrayal. 

' '  How  did  you  hear  of  our  camp  and  find  us  out  ?  "  asked 
Morris. 

"Through  little  Joe  Garrat,  of  the  'Bully  Boy.'  The 
old  bounder  and  I  have  been  acquainted  for  years." 

"  It's  a  wonder  you  didn't  meet  the  queen  and  a  native 
we've  got  as  a  servant  ?  " 

"Ain't  seen  nobody." 

"They've  gone  to  the  'Boy '  to  get  some  lush.  Fight- 
ing Sue  would  go  herself.  She's  got  a  will  of  her  own, 
and  likes  prowling  by  night." 

"^Well,  here's  to  the  lady's  health,"  said  Hammond, 
raising  the  horn  to  his  lips,  and  draining  it  dry. 

Young  Jack  listened  attentively  to  this  conversation. 

He  learnt  from  it  that  the  queen  had  gone  on  a  foraging 
expedition,  and  taken  the  boy  Tinker  with  her. 

After  he  had  disposed  of  the  bushrangers,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  look  out  for  her  and  the  boy. 

She  was  sure  to  come  back  to  the  camp  in  a  short  time. 

All  had  gone  well  so  far. 

He  hoped  to  be  back  in  Harkawayville  before  daylight 
with  Tinker,  and  tell  his  father  and  the  citizens  in  the  set- 
tlement that  he  had  destroyed  the  last  of  the  bushrangers. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


293 


It  would  be  an  exploit  to  boast  of. 

Gradually  the  tobacco  and  whisky,  of  which  they  were 
partaking  so  freely,  had  their  usual  effect  on  the  men. 

They  got  drowsy,  and  fell  off  to  sleep,  one  by  one. 

All  except  Ted  Hammond. 

He  was  on  the  alert,  although  he  pretended  to  be  as 
somnolent  as  the  rest. 

Daggersberg  had  put  by  the  fiddle  ;  the  last  song  had 
been  sung ;  whisky  and  the  weed  had  lost  their  charms. 

The  solemn  hush  of  the  bush  was  only  disturbed  by  the 
loud  snoring  of  the  drunken  men. 

All  this  time,  young  Jack,  Harry,  and  Monday  were 
kneeling  behind  the  undergrowth  and  shrub. 

It  was  a  tiring  and  anxious  period  for  them. 

They  kept  their  rifles  pointed  at  Ted  Hammond,  and 
well  he  knew  it. 

The  fire  was  burning  low. 

All  the  men  were  in  a  profound  slumber. 

He  rose  softly,  and  prepared  for  action. 

There  was  no  time  to  be  lost. 

Fighting  Sue  might  return  with  Tinker  at  any  moment, 
and  it  was  best  that  the  band  should  be  dealt  with  before 
she  arrived  from  her  expedition  to  the  "Bully  Boy." 

He  went  to  the  sleeping  bushrangers,  one  by  one,  and 
without  disturbing  them,  deprived  them  of  their  arms. 

First  he  took  the  rifles,  then  the  pistols,  and  finally  the 
knives. 

This  rendered  them  as  harmless  as  a  four-thousand- 
year-old  Egyptian  mummy. 

They  were  incapable  of  making  any  defence. 

The  convict  conveyed  the  arms  to  young  Jack. 

"I've  done  the  job,  boss,"  he  said,  "same  as  I  under- 
took to  do." 

"Are  you  sure  you  have  not  skipped  one?"  asked 
Jack. 

"Certain  sure,  boss." 

"Then  your  life  is  spared,  but  I  warn  you  that  it  will 
be  good  for  your  health  to  get  out  of  this  locality. " 

"  I  mean  to  do  so.     The  place  is  too  poor  for  me." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  There's  no  large  money  about.  I  want  to  make  a  big 
strike,  and  go  to  Europe." 

"Will  that  benefit  you?" 


294  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"There's  money  in  the  old  countries, "  said  the  convict  ; 
"and,  after  all,  civilisation  is  better  than  bush  life." 

"You  like  to  sleep  in  a  bed,  with  your  boots  off,"  Jack 
remarked. 

"  You  bet.     I'm  sorry  these  chaps  have  got  to  go  home, 
but  it  ain't  my  fault.     Good-night,  squire. " 

"Be  off  with  you,"  replied  Jack.      "I'm  only  sorry  that 
I  can't  include  you  in  the  death  list." 

"  Don't  say  that,  governor." 

"I  do,  and  I  can't  help  it ;  for  a  more  thorough-paced, 
dastardly,  despicable  rascal  I  never  met. " 

Ted  Hammond  retreated  a  few  steps. 

Suddenly  he  stooped  down. 

The  arms  he  had  so  artfully  stolen  from  the  bushrangers 
were  at  his  feet. 

He  bent  down  and  snatched  up  a  pistol. 

"  I'll  pay  you  for  that  remark,"  he  cried. 

Before  he  could  fire,  Jack  had  his  rifle  levelled  at  him. 

He  pulled  the  trigger  sharply. 

There  was  a  loud  report,  which  raised  a  dozen  echoes 
amongst  the  trees. 

Ted  Hammond  uttered  a  groan,  and  fell  forward  on  his 
face,  mortally  wounded. 

The  wretch  had  received  his  deserts  at  last. 

No  longer  would  he  prey  on  the  community,  plundering 
and  murdering. 

The  sound  of  the  gun's  explosion,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
woke  up  the  rangers. 

They  sprang  to  their  feet  in  a  hurry. 

It  was  a  night  alarm. 

Every  one  thought  that  the  sheriff  and  his  posse  were 
upon  them. 

Dismay  and  fright  were  on  each  one's  face. 

The  stars,  the  new  moon,  and  the  flickering  embers  of 
the  dying  fire  enabled  them  to  see  one  another. 

Their  enemies,  however,  were  most  effectually  concealed 
from  view. 

"Quick!"  exclaimed  young  Jack,   who  was  perfectly 
cool  and  collected  ;   "  mow  them  down." 

"This  child's  on  the  job,"  replied  Monday. 

"I'll  give  them  tarara-boom-de-ay, "  said  Harry. 

Two  rifles  were  discharged,  and  two  rangers  fell 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


295 


Jack  slipped  a  cartridge  into  the  breech,  and  dropped 
another. 

In  vain  the  rangers  looked  for  their  weapons. 

They  could  find  nothing-. 

Shots  came  from  the  bushes  in  quick  succession. 

One  by  one  the  bushrangers  fell. 

Young  Jack,  Harry  Girdwood,  and  Monday  were  dead 
shots. 

They  never  missed  their  aim. 

It  was  a  wholesale  slaughter. 

All  fell  in  agony,  except  Bob  Morgan,  who  received  a 
bullet  in  the  arm,  and  fled  into  the  bush. 

"That's  the  lot,"  said  young  Jack,  getting  up. 

"We've  done  the  trick  nicely,"  observed  Harry. 

"The  skunk  who  betrayed  them,  and  tried  to  shoot  me, 
has  also  joined  the  majority,"  replied  Jack. 

"  He  lost  his  temper,  which  was  the  worst  thing  he 
could  do,  under  the  circumstances. 

"Fellows  like  that  are  sure  to  come  to  grief,  sooner  or 
later. " 

"Honesty  the  best  policy,  sar,"  said  Monday. 

"That's  so,  old  Ivory." 

"  Now  we  haven't  got  Tinker,"  exclaimed  Jack. 

"Keep  a  good  lookout  for  him." 

"  Fighting  Sue's  at  large,  but  she'll  come  along  pres- 
ently with  Tinker. " 

"Have  to  shoot  her,  too,  sar." 

"She's  as  great  a  criminal  as  the  men,  and  though  she 
is  a  woman,  I  don't  see  why  we  should  show  her  any  more 
mercy  than  we  have  the  men. " 

Saying  this,  young  Jack  led  the  way  to  the  camp. 

He  passed  over  the  body  of  Ted  Hammond,  the  escaped 
convict. 

The  scoundrel  was  as  dead  as  a  stone. 

Jack's  bullet  had  pierced  his  heart. 

The  camp  presented  a  gory  scene,  the  ground  being 
flooded  with  blood,  and  the  betrayed  rangers  were  either 
dead  or  dying. 

It  had  been  an  easy  victory. 

Jack  counted  the  victims  ;  they  amounted  to  ten. 

"  It  has  been  a  massacre,"  he  said.  "I  don't  think 
one  has  escaped. " 

He  knew  nothing  about  the  flight  of  Bob  Morgan. 


.296  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

}t  We  give  um  toko,  Mast'  Jack,"  replied  Monday. 

•"  Now  we  must  look  out  for  the  queen  and  Tinker." 

"You  and  Mast'  Harry  get  a  little  bit  of  sleep." 

"Will  you  do  sentry  go  ?  " 

"That's  what  I  mean,  sar.  This  child  wide  awake 
enough. " 

"All  right.  Wake  me  when  you  are  tired.  Keep  a 
good  lookout." 

"What  do  you  take  me  for?  I'm  all  there,"  replied 
Monday. 

He  sat  down,  with  his  rifle  in  his  arms  ;  and  young 
Jack  and  Harry  laid  on  the  ground,  like  old  campaigners, 
and  were  soon  fast  asleep. 

They  had  triumphed,  and  their  minds  were  satisfied. 

From  Morgan's  widow  they  did  not  expect  much  trouble. 

Before  daylight  they  hoped  to  shake  Tinker  by  the 
hand. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

FIGHTING  SUE'S  REVENGE. 

WHEN  Bob  Morgan  made  his  escape  he  went  as  fast  as 
he  was  able  in  the  direction  of  the  road  that  led  to  the 
"Bully  Boy."  As  we  know,  the  path  was  pretty  well 
marked  out  and  defined  by  the  use  the  bushrangers  had 
made  of  it. 

The  light  shed  by  the  stars  and  the  moon  rendered 
walking  comparatively  easy. 

His  wound  in  the  arm  was  bleeding  freely. 

When  he  had  gone  a  certain  distance,  and  thought  him- 
self  out  of  danger,  he  halted. 

Tearing  the  sleeve  off  his  shirt,  he  bound  it  round  the 
wound  as  well  as  he  was  able  to  do. 

He  imagined  that  the  sheriff  had  attacked  the  camp. 

It  was  also  his  opinion  that  Ted  Hammond  had  been 
employed  by  the  authorities  to  betray  him  and  his  friends. 

Bitterly  he  blamed  himself  for  putting  trust  in  him. 

Deep  were  his  curses  on  the  traitor. 

If  he  could  have  got  hold  of  him,  this  man  would  have 
.strangled  him. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA, 


297 


Morgan  hoped  to  meet  his  sister-in-law  on  her  way  back. 

Nor  was  he  disappointed. 

Scarcely  had  he  finished  binding  up  his  wounded  arm, 
then  she  appeared  with  Tinker. 

The  boy  was  labouring  along  with  a  large  bottle  of 
spirits,  and  the  Queen  of  the  Bushrangers  carried  a  basket 
of  provisions. 

"You  here  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Morgan. 

Her  countenance  expressed  the  surprise  she  felt. 

"As  you  see,"  he  replied. 

"We  did  not  want  you  to  come  and  meet  us,"  she 
continued.  "The  boy  knows  his  way  about,  and  I 
wasn't  brought  up  in  the  woods  to  be  scared  by  an  owl. " 

"I  could  not  help  myself." 

"How  is  that?" 

"We  have  been  attacked.  I  don't  know  exactly  how  it 
was  done,  but  a  fellow  named  Ted  Hammond  gave  us 
away. " 

"I  know  him.  An  escaped  convict!"  cried  Mrs. 
Morgan. 

"That's  the  boy.     He  always  was  a  wrong  'un." 

"As  a  rule,  dog  doesn't  eat  dog.  What  did  he  want  to 
spoil  us  for  ?  " 

"That's  a  mystery.  He  came  to  the  camp  ;  we  made 
him  welcome  as  the  flowers  in  May  ;  we  drank,  we  sang, 
and  fell  asleep.  He  stole  our  arms.  Then  came  the  at- 
tack." 

"By  whom?" 

"I  don't  know.  The  enemy  were  concealed  in  the 
bush. " 

"  Was  it  the  sheriff  or  Harkaway  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Morgan, 
biting  her  lips  with  vexation  till  the  blood  came. 

"  Don't  I  say  I  can't  tell  you  ?  "  replied  Bob  Morgan. 

"I  wish  you  wouldn't  be  so  irritable." 

"  You  would  be,  if  you  had  a  bullet  in  your  arm." 

"Are  you  wounded?" 

Bob  showed  her  his  arm. 

"Excuse  me,"  she  exclaimed,  "I  didn't  know.  Who 
is  hurt  beside  you  ?  " 

"They  are  all  dead." 

"The  whole  band?" 

"'Every  man  Jack  of  them,  except  me,  and  I  escaped 
by  the  skin  of  my  teeth." 


298  JACK  HAKKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SOJV'S 

"Why  didn't  you  fight  ?  " 

"Heaven  bless  you!  How  could  we?  Talk  sense. 
That  infernal  scoundrel,  Ted  Hammond,  had  robbed  us 
of  our  weapons  while  we  slept ;  we  hadn't  even  a  knife 
left." 

"Drunk,  as  usual,  I  expect." 

"  Drop  going  on  at  me  !  "  cried  Bob.  "  We  didn't  look 
for  any  surprise. " 

"You  should  have  kept  a  watch.  It  wouldn't  have 
happened  if  I  had  been  there. " 

"What  could  you  have  done?  " 

"I'd  have  put  a  stop  to  the  carnage,"  said  Fighting  Sue. 
"You  men  want  a  woman  about  you,  with  her  head 
screwed  on  right." 

"Give  us  a  rest !  " 

"It's  a  pity  they  didn't  give  you  one,  you  thick-headed 
fool ! " 

"Bullying  me  won't  bring  the  boys  back  to  life." 

Sue  set  her  arms  akimbo,  and  looked  at  him,  shrew- 
ishly. 

'  What  do  you  propose  to  do  now  ? "  she  quivered. 
'  Skip,"  he  replied. 
'  Where  to  ?  " 

'  I  don't  know.     This  place  is  too  red-hot  for  us." 
'You  coward  !  "  she  hissed. 
'We're  alone,  and  we've  got  to  go." 
'  And  you're  the  brother  of  the  great  bushranger — my 
late  husband  !     You  haven't  got  the  pluck  of  a  kangaroo, 
nor  yet  a  cockatoo." 

"  I  don't  want  my  neck  stretched." 

"You  ought  to  have  it  extended,"  said  Mrs.  Morgan, 
bitterly.  "Go,  if  you  want  to.  Leave  me  to  fight  it  out 
alone. " 

"What's  the  good  of  stopping  ? " 

"  I  mean  to  have  it  out  with  Jack  Harkaway.  It's  him 
or  me.  He  was  the  cause  of  my  husband's  death." 

"This  is  madness  ! " 

"Call  it  what  you  like,  I  mean  what  I  say.  Some- 
times I  believe  that  I  am  mad.  My  poor  husband  loved 
me,  and  I  loved  him.  It  is  an  awful  loss.  My  head 
burns  like  fire  when  I  think  of  it." 

"  I  sympathise  with  you,  Sue." 

"Hang    your   sympathy!    I    want    your    help,"   she 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


299 


rejoined.  "You  know  very  well  that  I  left  my  home, 
came  out  here,  and  risked  every  thing  to  be  revenged  on 
Harkaway. " 

"Well,  my  good  woman,"  replied  Bob,  "the  game's 
up.  What  can  we  do  after  this  set  out  ?  " 

"I'll  stick  it." 

"It  will  be  the  death  of  both  of  us." 

"  I  don't  care.  You,  nor  anyone  else,  won't  make  me 
budge  from  this  bush." 

"You're  insane.  Let  us  get  away.  You  have  money 
in  the  bank.  My  brother  left  you  well  off." 

"What  of  that?" 

"Change  the  name  and  go  to  New  Zealand.  Start 
farming  or  apple-growing." 

"Not  if  I  know  it.      I'm  a  desperate  woman." 

"Sit  down,  "said  Bob,  "and  let  us  talk  this  matter 
over — reason  it  out." 

"You're  white-livered,  and  haven't  got  any  go  in  you. 
Why,  your  brother  was  fifty  times  a  better  man  than  you 
are." 

"I  can't  help  what  my  brother  was." 

"Never  mind.  I  tell  you,  mad  or  not  mad,  I  won't 
leave  these  parts,  until  I  have  settled  accounts  with  the 
Harkaways — father  and  son." 

"  If  that  is  so,  I  shall  have  to  stay  by  you,  Sue,  though 
losing  all  our  men  is  a  sad  pullback,"  said  Bob  Morgan. 

"  You  can  sneak  away,  if  you  like." 

"No,  no." 

' '  I  can  fight  it  out  alone.  I'll  haunt  the  town  Harkaway 
and  his  party  live  in.  I'll  shoot  in  the  dark,  like  a 
phantom.  Ha,  ha!  there's  an  idea  for  you." 

"The  phantom  shot,"  repeated  Bob. 

"Yes.     They  shall  fall,  one  by  one." 

"Good.  And  not  know  where  the  sudden  death  comes 
from  ? " 

"They  can  guess,  and  that's  all.  I'll  hide,  but  I'll  strike  ; 
so  you  can  go,  Bob  Morgan,  as  soon  as  you  please." 

"Not  me,  Sue.  I'll  not  desert  a  woman,  especially  one 
such  as  you  are." 

"Don't  waste  your  breath  in  complimenting  me." 

"You've  got  grit  in  you,  right  up  to  your  finger-tips." 

"Yes.  I  mean  to  show  it,  too," replied  the  Queen  of 
the  Bushrangers. 


300  JA  CK  HA  RKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

She  held  out  her  hand. 

"  Put  it  there,  Bob,"  she  added,  "  I'm  real  glad  you're 
going  to  stand  by  me  ;  but,  so  help  me  !  I'd  have  stood 
my  ground  alone." 

"I'll  bet  you  would,  Sue.     Don't  I  know  you?" 

"  Being  your  brother's  wife,  you  ought  to.  I  say,  Bob, 
I'm  afraid  I'm  not  quite  right  in  my  head." 

"You've  had  a  shock,  my  girl." 

"  A  great  one.     Nobody  knows  how  I  loved  that  man." 

"Morgan  wasn't  a  bad  sort  of  chap,"  said  Bob. 

"  He  was  a  prince.  What  do  you  think  he  was  always 
saying  to  me  when  he  came  home? " 

"  Give  it  up." 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  added  Mrs.  Morgan.  "His  one  idea 
— when  he  had  made  enough  money — was  to  go  and  live 
with  me  on  one  of  the  South  Sea  Islands." 

"  I've  heard  him  speak  of  it. " 

"  He  wasn't  a  bloodthirsty  man,  really.  I  always 
found  him  nice  and  gentle.  Ah  !  I've  met  with  a  loss  ; 

but,  mark  me,  Bob " 

'  Well  ? " 

'  I'm  solid  on  revenge. " 

'  Who  can  blame  you  ?  " 

'Those  interfering  Harkaways  shall  suffer." 
'  Death   to  the  whole  blooming  kit,   I  say  ! "  Bob  re- 
joined. 

"  Right  you  are.  I  mean  to  start  on  this  coloured  boy 
first,"  exclaimed  Fighting  Sue. 

She  pointed  to  Tinker. 

He  was  close  by,  with  the  case  bottle  of  spirits  in  his 
arms. 

There  was  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

He  had  heard  the  conversation  that  had  passed  between 
Fighting  Sue  and  Bob  Morgan. 

The  band  of  brigands  was  destroyed. 

By  whom  ? 

That  was  the  question  he  asked  himself. 

Tinker  answered  it  in  the  right  way. 

"My  young  master  come  after  me  ;  very  good  biz,"  he 
muttered.  "  Kill  all  rangers,  'cept  one.  Wish  he  kill  old 
Sue  ;  she  bad  egg." 

"  What's  the  boy  done  ?  "  inquired  Bob. 

"Nothing,"  replied  Sue. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


301 


"  If  he's  been  uncivil,  I'll  leather  him." 

"'Taint  that.  The  boy's  right  enough,  and  makes  a 
first-class  servant." 

"  Then  what  fault  do  you  find  with  him  ?  " 

"None  at  all.     I  ain't  finding  fault." 

"But  you  said  you  meant  to  kill  him." 

"Sol  do." 

"It's  no  use  killing  for  nothing,"  Bob  remonstrated, 
"Not  that  niggers  are  worth  much." 

"  He's  one  of  the  crowd." 

"Oh,  I  see  what  you  mean  now.  He  belongs  to 
Harkaway's  crew  ? " 

"Certainly.  He  has  told  me  that  young  Jack  Hark- 
away  is  very  much  attached  to  him." 

Tinker  stepped  forward. 

"Scuse  me,  ma'am,"  he  said,  "that  quite  true.  When 
you  talk  of  killing  me,  you  make  me  feel  bad.  My  young 
master  pay  you  well  to  let  me  go  back  to  Harkawayville." 

"Not  if  I  know  it,  young  lampblack.  You'll  go  to 
kingdom  come  before  you  go  to  the  other  shop,"  rejoined 
Fighting  Sue. 

"Don't  be  hard  on  a  poor  chap,"  pleaded  Tinker. 

"  You've  got  to  die. " 

"  I's  too  young  for  that.     Ease  up  on  me  a  bit,  lady." 

"Can't  be  done  at  the  price,  you  lump  of  animated 
stove-polish. " 

"  Golly  !     You  call  me  some  funny  names." 

"  I'll  make  an  example  of  you,  which  will  strike  terror 
into  the  hearts  of  the  Harkaways." 

Tinker  set  down  the  bottle. 

He  folded  his  arms  in  just  the  same  defiant  manner 
that  the  queen  had  done. 

"What's  that  you  say?"  he  demanded 

"Keep  your  ears  open,"  she  replied. 

"  If  you  think  any  thing  you  can  do  can  frighten  Jack 
Harkaway  or  keep  him  off  your  track  when  he's  once 
started,  you  make  heap  big  mistake. " 

"Shut  up  your  mouth,"  cried  Fighting  Sue.  "You're 
too  saucy  for  me." 

"  Kill  me  next  minute,  but  I'll  speak  first,"  Tinker  an- 
swered, boldly. 

"  I  sha'n't  do  any  thing  to  you  till  morning,  but  I'll  put 
the  chain  on,  and  fasten  you  to  a  tree." 


302  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"Needn't  think  I'd  run." 

"Oh,  no,  you  wouldn't, "  laughed  Mrs.  Morgan.  "You 
don't  know  nothing,  do  you  ?  Lor'  bless  your  pretty 
innocent  young  soul,  you  wouldn't  bolt.  Oh,  dear,  no  1 
Only  when  you  got  the  chance." 

"  I  like  the  pleasure  of  your  society,  ma'am,  too  much 
to  leave  you  without  giving  notice." 

"Crumbs,"  said  Fighting  Sue,  "  you're  a  cheeky  young 
nig.  If  I  hadn't  a  grudge  against  your  friends  and  pro- 
tectors, the  Harkaways,  I'd  let  you  go  loose." 

"  It  would  be  all  the  better  for  you,  ma'am." 

"That's  what  you  say." 

With  this  remark,  she  opened  the  basket  she  had  been 
carrying,  and  took  out  a  small,  but  strong  steel  chain. 

Putting  it  round  his  leg,  just  above  the  ankle,  she  fast- 
ened him  to  the  trunk  of  a  tree  by  means  of  a  padlock,  of 
which  she  retained  the  key. 

He  was  thus  thoroughly  secured. 

It  was  impossible  for  him  to  run  away. 

The  cruellest  part  of  the  business  was,  he  was  chained 
up  so  tightly,  that  he  was  unable  to  lie  down  on  the  ground. 

He  had  been  walking  a  long  way. 

The  boy  was  thoroughly  exhausted  and  wanted  a  rest, 
wnich  he  could  only  obtain  by  leaning  against  the  tree. 

This  he  did. 

His  eyes  were  closed,  but  his  ears  were  open. 

"Now,  Bob,"  she  exclaimed,  "  we'll  camp  out  here,  in 
the  open,  and  have  a  bit  of  grub  and  a  drink." 

"With  all  the  pleasure  in  life,  Suey,"  replied  Bob  Mor- 
gan. 

She  produced  some  provisions. 

They  both  ate  heartily,  and  drank  some  spirits  and 
water  ;  after  this,  Bob  produced  his  pipe,  pouch  of  to- 
bacco, and  box  of  matches. 

Strange  to  relate,  Fighting  Sue  did  the  same. 

She  acted  in  every  way  just  as  a  man  would. 

In  fact,  there  was  more  of  the  masculine  than  the  femi- 
nine gender  about  her. 

"Light  up,  Sue,"  said  Bob  Morgan. 

"You  bet,"  she  replied;  "  that's  what  I'm  on  for,  and 
then  a  doss  down  on  the  ground." 

"  I  wish  we  had  a  blanket,"  remarked  Bob.  "  It's  turn- 
ing kind  of  chilly." 


ADVENTURES  IN  A USTRAUA.  303 

"You  will  have  to  put  up  with  that,  my  man,  until  we 
have  wiped  out  these  detested  Harkaways ;  then  I  will 
take  you  with  me  to  Fiji." 

"  I'd  dearly  love  to  go." 

"  It's  a  bargain.  Let  me  have  my  revenge,  and  I'm 
off.  Be  good  to  me,  Bob,  for  your  dead  brother's  sake." 

"I  will,  Sue,  believe  me." 

;'  You  ought.     He  was  always  kind  to  both  of  us." 

"Don't  1  know  it,  girl?  Take  a  rest,"  said  Bob. 
"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  the  boy  ? " 

"  Roast  him,"  replied  she,  with  a  vixenish  look,  "  and 
serve  him  up  half  done." 

' '  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

She  laughed  maniacally. 

Her  eyes  glared  in  the  most  fearful  manner. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  whatever  that  she  was  half 
mad,  if  not  entirely  so. 

Recent  events  had  affected  her  mind  in  a  most  deplor- 
able manner. 

Bob  Morgan  began  to  feel  afraid  of  his  sister-in-law. 

The  whisky  she  was  drinking,  and  the  strong  tobacco 
she  smoked,  did  not  improve  her  temper. 

"You  know  where  they  hanged  Rook,"  said  Fighting 
Sue. 

"Yes  ;  it  was  on  the  road  leading  to  the  '  Bully  Boy,'  ' 
Bob  answered. 

' '  Some  of  the  Harkaway  party  came  up  and  cut  him 
down.  He's  alive  and  well,  I've  heard." 

"  That's  more  luck  than  some  men  meet  with." 

"Perhaps  he'll  have  worse  before  long,  if  I  can  get  on 
his  track." 

"I've  marked  the  spotwhere  they  strung  him  up.  It  was 
a  tree  that  had  been  struck  by  lightning." 

' '  That's  it.  I  intend  to  take  this  boy  Tinker  there  to- 
morrow morning,  chain  him  to  the  tree,  light  some  green 
wood  under  him,  and  suffocate  him  to  death." 

"That's  a  wild  idea." 

"  Just  suits  my  frame  of  mind.  He  has  told  me  that 
he  is  young  Jack  Harkaway's  pet  boy,  and  it  will  be  a 
blow  to  the  party.  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"A  regular  bo'dy  blow,  and  a  facer,  too,"  replied  Bob. 

"That's  number  one.  I'll  be  on  to  the  rest  soon. 
People  going  up  and  down  the  road  will  soon  see  the 


304  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

body  of  the  boy.  Ha,  ha  !  they  didn't  kill  my  poor  hus- 
band for  nothing." 

"  You're  a  fair  scorcher,  Sue." 

"Never  mind  what  I  am.  All  I  live  for  is  revenge," 
she  rejoined. 

In  a  few  minutes,  the  pipe  she  was  smoking  dropped 
from  her  hand ;  she  sank  back  on  the  ground  and  went  to 
sleep. 

It  was  not  long  before  Bob  Morgan  followed  her  ex- 
ample. 

When  the  day  broke  they  were  still  asleep. 

Tinker  was  in  a  most  uncomfortable  state. 

He  was  hungry,  thirsty,  and  stiff  from  the  position  he 
had  been  compelled  to  maintain. 

"Hi,  hi  !  "  he  cried,  "there's  nothinggolumpshus'bout 
this.  If  you  are  going  to  roast  me,  it's  time  to  begin." 

Mrs.  Morgan  and  Bob  woke  up. 

They  made  a  breakfast  as  well  as  they  could,  and  gave 
the  boy  something. 

His  cravings  were  satisfied  ;  he  was  unchained,  and  the 
three  made  a  start  for  the  road. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  during  the  journey. 

When  the  blasted  tree  was  reached,  the  boy  was  chained 
to  it. 

Fighting  Sue  and  Bob  collected  wood  and  threw  it  round 
his  lower  limbs. 

Some  dry  grass  was  then  piled  against  it. 

Tinker  looked  anxiously  up  and  down  the  road.  No- 
body was  to  be  seen. 

A  terrible  death  awaited  him. 

Sue's  mouth  was  hard  set ;  there  was  no  mercy  to  be 
expected  from  such  a  mad  woman. 

"Now,  a  match,"  she  said. 

Bob  Morgan  gave  her  one. 

"Lord  help  me,"  muttered  Tinker.  "I  never  see 
young  master  again." 

It  indeed  looked  as  if  his  fate  was  sealed.  Only  a  m*r- 
acle  could  save  him. 


AX/  ^.£  W  TURES  IN  A  US  TKALIA.  3  05 

CHAPTER  XLVII. 

A    REMARKABLE     DREAM. 

SUDDENLY  young  Jack  woke  up  with  a  start 

He  sprang  to  his  feet. 

It  was  still  dark,  but  the  stars  were  shining  brightly. 

Monday  was  on  guard,  alert  and  vigilant. 

If  there  was  any  danger,  or  work  to  be  done,  he  de- 
spised the  idea  of  sleep. 

But  when  all  was  over,  he  could  slumber  for  twenty- 
four  hours  at  a  stretch. 

"You  woke  up,  Mast'  Jack,"  he  exclaimed.  . 

"Yes,"  replied  Jack.      "  I  had  a  bad  dream." 

"  What  that  'bout,  sar?  " 

'  '  My  boy  Tinker.  I  thought  he  told  me  he  was  in 
great  danger  from  fire." 

"That  very  funny  thing,  Mast'  Jack,"  said  Monday. 
*'  What  a  little  chap  like  him  doing  with  fire  ?  " 

"I  can't  tell,"  continued  Jack  ;  "  but  I  am  positive  the 
boy  is  in  danger.  I  saw  him  distinctly,  and  there  was  a 
piteous,  appealing  look  on  his  face,  as  if  he  was  crying, 
'  Do  help  me  !  " 

"  My  people  always  pay  great  'tention  to  dream  faces, 
jar,"  remarked  Monday. 

"  I  have  heard  father  say  they  are  highly  superstitious." 

"All   the   same.     Golly!    white   man    no   better  than 


'  '  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Try  for  good  luck  and  believe  in  omens,"  Monday 
Answered.  '  '  Spill  salt  ;  that  bad.  See  new  moon  through 
^lass  ;  that  bad,  too.  No  luck  all  month.  " 

"You  are  right.  Human  nature  is  the  same  all  the 
world  over." 

"We  drop  that  subject,  sar.  What  is  to  be  done  for 
poor  little  Tinker  boy  ?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  lose  him." 

"Certainly  not.     Wouldn't  do  at  all,  Mast'  Jack." 

"  I  think  as  much  of  Tinker,  whom  I  discovered  here 
in  Australia,  as  my  father  did  of  you,  when  he  invented 
and  patented  you  in  the  island  of  Limbi  " 
20 


306  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"Ah,  he  always  call  me  Old  Reliable,  because  he  could 
always  depend  on  me." 

"You've  got  something  in  that  old  numskull  of  yours. 
Advise  me  what  to  do." 

"  I's  got  a  theorem  of  my  own." 

"Theory,  you  mean,"  corrected  Jack. 

"That's  the  bird.  You  cotched  him  that  time,  captain. 
Now  jes'  you  listen  to  me.  It  doesn't  take  anyone  all 
night  to  go  to  the  '  Bully  Boy'  and  back." 

"  No.     I  should  call  it  a  coupte  of  hours,  each  way." 

"And  you'd  be  pretty  near  the  mark." 

"Well,  go  on." 

"Fighting  Sue  has  been  stopped  on  the  way,"  Monday 
said,  in  a  significant  tone. 

"  Who  by  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

"  I  reckon  one — perhaps  two — of  the  rangers  escaped 
our  fire.  We  not  know  'xactly  how  many  there  was. " 

"Quite  correct.  One  may  have  got  off  wounded,  and 
we  did  not  see  him  in  the  smoke  and  hurry." 

"Very  good.  You  follow  me  so  far,  Mast' Jack.  I  see 
I  shall  make  you  understand  presently.  Some  people 
got  thick  heads." 

' '  Do  you  mean  me  ?  " 

"Didn't  mention  no  names.  Too  perlite — too  mucl 
the  gentleman  for  that,  sar. " 

"If  you  were  as  cheeky  twenty  years  ago  as  you  are 
now,  I  wonder  my  father  didn't  make  his  bootmaker 
acquainted  with  your  tailor. " 

"You  mean,  he  kick  me  ? " 

"That's  about  the  size  of  what  I  intended  to  convey." 

"  Your  father  very  brave  man,  Mast'  Jack,  but  it  was 
always  more  than  he  dare  do  to  lay  so  much  as  his  little 
finger  on  me. " 

Monday  said  this  so  very  gravely  that  young  Jack  burst 
out  laughing  right  in  his  face. 

"  What  for  you  make  that  guffaw?"  asked  the  Prince 
of  Limbi. 

"  You  confounded  old  liar,"  cried  Jack.  "I  can't  call 
you  any  thing  else." 

"Something  the  matter  with  you,  now,  eh  ? " 

"Why,  I've  seen  my  governor  sling  you  around  the 
room,  wipe  the  floor  and  sit  on  you,  when  you've  annoys ' 
him  and  he's  been  in  a  bad  temper.  Deny  that,  if  you  «<u»- 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


307 


"  He  do  it  all  in  fun,"  replied  Monday. 

"  I  shouldn't  have  called  it  fun,  by  a  long  way." 

"  Ah  !  Bah  !  "  exclaimed  Monday.  "I  let  your  fathel 
have  his  own  way,  perhaps,  a  little  too  much." 

"Because  you  couldn't  help  yourself." 

"He  very  playful,  and  I  liked  him.  All  he  knows  I 
taught  him." 

"Shut  up  !  I'm  tired  of  listening  to  you.  If  you  can't 
lie  and  brag,  nobody  can." 

"My  trumpeter  dead,  sar,  so  obliged  to  blow  um 
trumpet  umself,"  replied  Monday.  "Yah,  yah  !  " 

"Good  joke,  isn't  it ? '' 

"Fust-class.     I's  all  right  when  you  know  me." 

"  Go  on  with  your  theory,"  said  Jack. 

"  I's  coming  to  it.     Don't  you  hurry  my  cattle." 

"You're  so  jolly  long-winded." 

"  It's  your  pleasant  company,  Mast'  Jack.  I  like  to 
enjoy  it." 

"Aren't  you  a  flattering  old  humbug?  Do  you  want 
to  borrow  a  fiver?"  Jack  inquired. 

"I  could  do  with  a  score,"  Monday  answered.  "  I  lost 
lot  of  money  lately  playing  euchre  in  Harkawayville, 
sar. " 

"More  fool  you." 

"  Thank  you  for  nothing.  I  didn't  expect  much  sym- 
pathy from  you,  but  now  I  get  none,  I  leave  you  to  find 
that  boy  Tinker  yourself,"  said  Monday,  indignantly. 

"Don't  be  cross,  old  fellow." 

"Then  you  jes'  behave  yourself,  Mast'  Jack.  I'll  do 
what  I  can  for  Tinker,  but  you  mustn't  place  no  Tinkers 
before  me." 

' '  Jealous,  are  you  ?  " 

"I's  been  in  the  family  longer  than  Tinker.  Your 
father  set  great  store  by  me." 

"Be  happy  and  contented.  I  really  had  no  idea  of 
casting  you  in  the  background,  only  I  am  so  anxious 
about, the  boy." 

"  Orright.     If  want  to  find  him,  better  march." 

"Whereto?" 

"Find  tracks  of  Fighting  Sue.  I  telling  you  that  Mrs. 
Morgan,  the  Queen  of  the  Bushrangers,  has  met  someone 
who  escaped  from  our  fire.  Me  stopped" and  turned  her 
back.  If  not,  sheM  have  boen  here  before  now." 


308  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON  >S 

1 '  That's  what  I  think. " 

"Then  this  man,  whoever  he  is,  tell  her  about  how  we 
slaughter,  kill,  and  massacre  them." 

"  Of  course  he  would  do  that." 

"The  queen  say,  in  great  rage,  'That's  this  Harkaway 
or  his  son  doing  this.  Tinker's  the  son's  boy.  I'll  have 
my  revenge  out  on  him." 

Jack  clapped  his  hands  together. 

"By  Jove,  old  son,  I  think  you've  struck  the  right  nail 
on  the  head  this  time." 

' '  Certain  sure  I  have,  sar. " 

"Poor  Tinker  is  perhaps  to  be  tortured  in  some  horrible 
way  by  fire. " 

"This  child  wouldn't  wonder,  Mast'  Jack." 

"I'll  wake  Harry  up." 

"Urn  ready  to  start  at  a  moment's  notice." 

"Good.  We'll  soon  see  what  you  are  made  of, "replied 
young  Jack. 

He  stepped  over  the  corpses  of  the  bushrangers,  and 
going  up  to  Harry  Girdwood,  roused  him,  in  his  rough- 
and-ready  campaigning  fashion,  by  giving  him  a  slight 
kick  in  the  ribs. 

Harry  rose  at  once. 

Being  told  about  the  dream,  he  willingly  joined  them 
in  the  search  for  Tinker. 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  young  Jack,  Harry  Gird- 
wood,  and  the  ever  faithful  Monday  reached  the  high 
road,  which  led  from  the  town  of  Masdon  to  Harkaway- 
ville. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far  before  they  heard  cries  for 
help.  A  thick  smoke  arose  from  the  trunk  of  a  tree  by 
the  roadside.  No  one  was  to  be  seen. 

The  road  was  entirely  deserted. 

"  By  heaven !  "  cried  Jack,  "some  foul  work  is  going  on." 

"  Hurry  up,"  said  Harry. 

Monday  drew  his  knife,  and  ran  up  the  road  with  the 
fleetness  of  a  hare. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  was  seen  by  Jack  and  Harry,  who 
followed  more  leisurely,  to  be  throwing  some  burning 
\vood  on  one  side. 

rhey  then  saw  the  form  of  a  boy,  tied  to  the  tree. 

II:s  head  was  hanging  down,  as  if  the  smoke  had  as- 
phyxiated him  to  some  extent 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


3°9 


Monday  cut  him  down  and  laid  him  on  the  grass. 

"It's  Tinker,"  said  Jack.      "  I  hope  he  isn't  dead." 

"  We're  just  in  time,  I  guess,"  replied  Harry. 

"Wasn't  mine  a  remarkable  dream  ?  " 

"Rather;  there  is  more  in  dreams  than  most  people 
think.  Poor  Tinker!  he's  been  badly  treated." 

They  now  reached  the  spot  where  Monday  was  bend- 
ing over  the  boy. 

They  were  not  mistaken  in  their  conjecture. 

It  was  Tinker,  and  they  had  arrived  just  in  time  to  save 
his  life. 

Fighting  Sue  and  Bob  Morgan  had  set  fire  to  the  dry 
wood  they  had  placed  around  the  body  of  the  helpless 
Tinker. 

When  they  were  satisfied  that  it  was  thoroughly  alight, 
they  beat  a  retreat. 

This  was  only  a  few  seconds  before  Monday  ran  up. 

They  saw  Monday,  and  also  Jack  and  Harry. 

A  large  gum-tree  was  close  by. 

It  did  not  take  them  a  moment  to  dart  behind  it. 

This  afforded  them  shelter,  and  at  the  same  time  en- 
abled them  to  hide. 

They  wanted  to  see  what  was  about  to  take  place. 

Their  plan  had  been  confounded  at  the  eleventh  hour. 

Tinker,  their  hapless  victim,  was  not  to  die  this  time. 

The  boy  was  reviving. 

Plenty  of  fresh  air  inflated  his  lungs ;  he  heaved  a  deep 
sigh,  and  opened  his  eyes. 

" That  you,  master ?  "he  said,  in  a  weak  tone.  " How 
you  find  me  out  ? " 

"  I  had  a  dream,"  replied  Jack.  "  I  thank  heaven  vou 
are  all  right" 

"  Pretty  near  done  for." 

"Who  did  it?" 

"Fighting  Sue.  All  her  men  killed,  'cept  Bob  Morgan. 
They  been  attacked  in  the  dark." 

'*  Did  they  try  to  burn  you  ?  " 

"That  was  the  racket,"  Tinker  answered  "  It  mighty 
hard,  cruel  bit  of  business." 

"So  I  should  think." 

"Sue  say  that  I  your  boy,  and  have  revenge  by  tying 
me  to  tree,  putting  sticks  round  my  legs,  and  setting  them 
alierht. " 


310  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"Where  are  they?" 

"I  dunno.  Bob  Morgan  strike  a  match,  smoke  come 
up,  and  my  head  go  dizzy." 

"Can  you  walk?  " 

"Reckon  so.     Give  me  a  hand  up,  master." 

Young  Jack  assisted  him  to  rise. 

He  was  a  little  shaky  on  his  legs,  but  the  fire  had  not 
burnt  him. 

It  was  only  the  smoke  that  had  affected  him. 

Jack  had  a  flask  of  brandy  in  his  pocket. 

He  gave  him  a  little. 

The  dram  seemed  to  put  new  life  into  him. 

"This  am  golopshus,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  feel  good  as 
gold  after  that. " 

"You're  grinning  like  a  monkey," 

"Can't  help  myself.  You  saved  my  life,  and  I  never 
forget  you,"  said  Tinker. 

He  seized  Jack's  hand,  and,  raising  it  to  his  lips,  kissed 
it  with  every  demonstnation  of  affection. 

It  showed  that  he  was  of  a  loving  disposition. 

"Fr'aps,"he  added,  with  his  eyes  full  of  tears,  "I  have 
the  chance  of  saving  you  some  day." 

"  I'm  sure  you  would  if  you  could." 

"  I'd  die  for  you,  master." 

"  Better  live  for  me.  I  should  much  prefer  it,"  replied 
Jack,  laughing. 

"You  very  kind  to  poor,  ignorant,  native  bush-boy, 
but  my  heart  good." 

"I  know  that,  and  wherever  I  go  you  shall  accompany 
me." 

"That  make  me  happy." 

' '  You'll  learn  a  lot  as  you  grow  older.  At  the  same 
time,  it  isn't  a  classical  education  that  makes  the  man. 
Universities  can't  do  everything. " 

"  I  serve  you  well,  master,"  answered  Tinker. 

Monday  touched  him  on  the  shoulder. 

"You  say  nothing  to  me,"  he  exclaimed.  "Didn't  I 
come  up  first,  and  kick  um  sticks  away,  put  out  the  fire, 
and  cut  um  down  ?  " 

"Yes,  Mister  Monday.  You  very  good  fellow,"  re- 
Joined  Tinker. 

"It  +ook  you  a  long  time  to  find  that  out" 


ADVENTURES  Ifr  AUSTRALIA. 


311 


"I  thank  you  very  much,  and  Mister  Harry,  too.  Poor 
Tinker  been  burnt  to  a  cinder,  but  for  you." 

"Mind  you  behave  yourself  in  future,  young  man," 
said  Monday. 

"  Me  always  do  that." 

"Um  have  um  doubts  about  it." 

"That  will  do,"  exclaimed  young  Jack.  "We  have 
rescued  the  boy,  who  isn't  half  a  bad  sort,  and  the  ques- 
tion that  arises  is,  what  are  we  to  do  next?  " 

"Let  us  hold  a  council  of  war,"  said  Harry. 

"Agreed.  I'll  be  the  general  in  command.  Let  me 
hear  the  views  of  all  of  you,  but  don't  all  speak  at  once." 

"  I'll  start  first,"  replied  Harry.  • 

"Go  ahead,  then  ;  sail  in." 

"We  can  see  how  horribly  savage  and  vindictive  Mrs. 
Morgan,  or  Fighting  Sue  as  they  call  her,  is." 

"No  discount  on  that,"  said  Jack. 

"Not  a  ha'p'orth.  I  believe  the  woman  is  mad,  or  she 
would  not  dream  of  burning  a  boy  at  the  stake." 

"  Perhaps  the  death  of  her  husband  and  the  destruction 
of  the  two  bands,  hers  and  his,  has  driven  her  crazy." 

"It  must  be  so." 

"And  Bob  Morgan  is  as  bad,  or  he  would  not  aid  and 
abet  her." 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,"  answered  Harry.  "Now, 
we've  got  to  face  a  hard  fact,  and  facts  are  stubborn 
things. " 

"What's  that?" 

"Fighting  Sue  is  dead  against  your  father,  you,  and  all 
of  us. " 

"We  need  not  care  for  her,  because  we  shall  go  back 
to  England  now  we  have  recovered  Tinker,"  remarked 
young  Jack. 

"  Don't  take  the  matter  so  easy  as  that." 

"What  is  there  to  fear?  " 

"The  woman  and  the  man  have  escaped." 

"  But  they  are  only  two." 

"At  the  same  time,  my  dear  Jack,  they  are  powerful 
for  evil.  Two  determined  persons  can  do  a  lot  of  harm, 
and  I'll  bet  you  that  they  will  do  some  harm  to  some  of 
us  before  we  can  quit  Harkawayville  and  get  to  the 
nearest  railway-station,  which,  as  you  know,  is  a  long 
way  off. " 


312  JA  CK  HA RKA  WA  Y  AND  I/JS  SON  15 

*'  What  do  you  advise  ? " 

"They  must  be  hunted  down  and  captured." 

"That  is  a  large  order." 

Jack  turned  to  Monday. 

''What  is  your  opinion,  old  ebony  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Um  of  the  same  mind  as  Mast'  Girdwood,  boss,  that's 
me,"  answered  Monday. 

"  Hunt  them  down.  Look  upon  them  as  wild  beasts 
or  poisonous  snakes,  that  ought  to  be  exterminated, "said 
Harry. 

"Now,  Tinker,  let  us  hear  from  you,"  continued  Jack. 

"I  have  no  wisdom  like  you  folks,"  replied  Tinker, 
"but  I'd  like  to  speak  what  I  think." 

"Certainly;  speak  freely.  Kids  like  you  often  talk 
sense. " 

"My  advice,  master,"  said  Tinker,  "is  to  go  home, 
and  ask  your  father  what  to  do. " 

Jack  ST^led. 

"That*  not  a  bad  idea,"  he  replied. 

" Yo'v  father  very  clever  man,  sir;  been  all  over  the 
worl^  and  know  a  trick  or  two." 

"  Sv*  he  does." 

"Very  brave.     Got  good  head  on  him." 

"What  he  doesn't  know,  isn't  worth  knowing,"  said 
Jack,  who  was  proud  of  his  father. 

"One  of  the  cleverest  men  on  the  face  of  the  earth, 
that's  my  opinion,"  added  Tinker. 

"Yes  ;  he  forgot,  ten  years  ago,  what  most  men  know 
at  seventy." 

"  You  come  back  home,  master,  and  he  settle  this  ques- 
tion better  than  you." 

"I  will  be  guided  by  you,"  answered  young  Jack. 

"That  um  best  way,'  remarked  Monday. 

''Couldn't  do  better,"  observed  Harry.  "But  how 
about  grub  ?  I  have  internal  rumblings ;  in  fact,  I'm  as 
empty  as  a  drum.  I  could  eat  a  raw  turnip." 

"We're  not  far  from  the  'Bully  Boy.'  I  dare  say  old 
Garrat  will  provide  us  a  good  feed." 

"  Hurrah  !  a  splendid  suggestion." 

"Might  have  had  a  bit  of  me,"  said  Tinker,  "on'y  I 
didn't  have  time  to  roast" 


bals 


"Go  on,"  replied  Jack;  "<Io  you  think  we're  camai- 
1s  ? " 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 

"What  you  call  them?" 

"  If  ever  you  are  wrecked  in  the  South  Seas,  you'll  find 
out,  my  lad." 

"Come  on,"  cried  Harry;  "I'll  be  satisfied  with  a 
mutton  chop  and  a  damper." 

They  wasted  no  more  time  in  conversation,  but  walked 
at  a  quick  pace  up  the  road. 

Although  they  knew  it  not,  they  passed  by  Fighting 
Sue  and  Bob  Morgan. 

The  capacious  trunk  of  the  tree  effectually  concealed 
them. 

Neither  of  the  four  had  the  remotest  idea  that  their 
enemies  were  so  close  to  them. 

In  a  short  time  they  arrived  at  the  roadside  tavern,  and 
were  cordially  received  by  Garrat,  who  knew  them  well. 

He  told  them  of  the  death  of  the  sheriff,  and  was,  ap- 
parently, glad  to  hear  that  the  band  of  bushrangers  had 
been  almost  exterminated. 

In  his  heart  he  felt  sorry  for  it. 

The  rangers  had  always  been  good  customers  of  his, 
and  he  really  regretted  their  loss. 

His  sympathy  was  with  the  lawless  desperadoes. 

But  he  had  to  put  on  a  fair  face  with  Jack,  and  make 
out  that  he  hated  them. 

A  breakfast  of  meat,  vjggs,  coffee,  and  damper,  as  the 
unleavened  bread  is  called,  with  the  addition  of  some 
kangaroo-tail  soup— considered  a  delicacy — was  rapidly 
provided. 

The  hungry  party  sat  down  to  enjoy  it 

Monday  kept  on  getting  up  from  the  table  and  looking 
out  of  the  window,  which  commanded  a  view  of  the  road. 
'  What's  your  little  game  ?  "  enquired  young  Jack. 
'Got  to  wink  the  other  eye,  sar,"  replied  Monday. 

1  I  don't  understand  you." 

'Keep  a  look-out  for  Fighting  Sue.     She  not  far  off." 

'  You're  right,"  said  Jack. 

He  put  his  revolver  on  the  table  by  his  plate. 

It  was  as  well  to  be  prepared  for  all  emergencies. 

There  was  no  foretelling  what  might  happen. 

A  certain  amount  of  anxiety  was  depicted  on  every  face. 

But  that  did  not  take  the  edge  off  their  appetites,  "  for 
they  eat  like  horses,  when  you  hear  them  eat,"  as  Tenny- 
son says. 


3*4  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 


CHAPTER  XLVTII. 

A   DESPERATE    RESOLVE. 

WHEN  young  Jack  and  his  party  passed  the  tree  be« 
hind  which  the  Queen  of  the  Bushrangers  was  hiding, 
with  her  brother-in-law,  Bob  Morgan,  she  was  wild  with 
vexation. 

In  the  height  of  her  temper,  she  raised  her  revolver. 

Her  intention  was  to  shoot  young  Jack  and  Tinker,  if 
she  could  not  kill  Harry  and  Monday. 

She  would  have  risked  it,  had  not  Bob  stopped  her. 

He  grasped  her  wrist  firmly. 

Her  hand  was  lowered,  and  the  pistol  directed  towards 
the  ground. 

"Are  you  mad?"  asked  Bob. 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  in  a  despondent  tone,  "I  am  as 
crazy  as  any  Bess  of  Bedlam." 

"  Have  sense  enough  not  to  draw  their  fire." 

"What  do  I  care  what  becomes  of  me?" 

"That's  all  very  well  from  your  point  of  view,"  pro- 
tested Bob;  "but  I  have  a  decided  objection  to  being 
shot,  or  my  carcase  otherwise  perforated. " 

"  I  shall  never  be  the  same  woman  again,"  continued 
Fighting  Sue.  "  All  I  live  for  now  is  revenge  !  When  1 
have  killed  Jack  Harkaway  and  his  son,  I  shall  be  con- 
tent  to  die,  and  join  my  beloved  husband,  I  hope,  in  an- 
other world." 

"What  good  is  revenge?  "  asked  Bob. 

Fighting  Sue  clasped  her  hands  ecstatically  together. 

"Oh  !  it  is  sweet — sweet !  "  she  cried,  rapturously. 

"Don't  talk  like  a  blooming  idiot,"  replied  Bob, 
coarsely  and  angrily. 

"I  mean  it  from  my  heart." 

"You  women  always  indulge  in  some  sentimental  rot. 
Now,  I'll  tell  you  what  is  ever  so  much  better  than  re- 
venge. " 

"Name  it,"  said  Mrs.   Morgan. 

"  Gold — money.  You  and  I  might  make  a  stake  out 
here  by  robbing  some  bank,  and  nip  off  to  New  South 
Wales  without  anyone  being  a  bit  the  wiser." 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


3»5 


"No,  nor  "  Sue  replied,  shaking  her  head  in  a  melan- 
choly manner. 

"Cheer  up  ;  don't  be  downhearted." 

"I  am  in  an  abyss  of  despair,  from  which  nothing  can 
extricate  me.  Money,  home,  everything  has  lost  its 
charms. for  me,  except  revenge." 

"You're  a  crank,  a  regular  crackpot,  on  the  subject," 
said  Morgan,  crossly. 

"Call  me  what  you  like.  The  Harkaways,  father  and 
son,  shall  die  by  my  hand.  When  their  bodies  are  moul- 
dering in  the  cold  hard  ground,  as  is  that  of  my  poor  dear 
husband,  I  shall  be  satisfied,  not  before." 

"You  and  I  can't  travel  together,  Sue! '' 

"  1  did  not  expect  you  to  support  me,  after  the  band 
was  destroyed." 

"  It  is  too  much  to  expect." 

*•  You  are  too  selfish,  my  dear  fellow,"  exclaimed  Fight- 
ing Sue.  "I  know  you  better  than  you  know  yourself." 

"I  shall  be  off  South.  Our  paths  diverge  right  here. 
The  Harkaways  are  tough  nuts  to  crack,  and  I'm  not 
going  to  try  the  game  on." 

"  So  be  it.     Go  your  way,  and  I'll  go  mine." 

"It  is  a  desperate  resolve,  my  girl.  I  hope  you  wilt 
pull  through,  but  I  don't  think  you  will." 

"  Coward  !  my  star  has  not  yet  set." 

As  she  spoke  she  drew  herself  up  proudly.  Her  eyes 
flashed  defiance,  and  her  bosom  heaved  with  emotion. 

Bob  Morgan  knew  her  moods  well,  and  fell  back,  fear- 
ing to  utter  anything  to  irritate  her. 

All  at  once  they  heard  the  clattering  of  a  horse's 
hoofs. 

The  animal  was  coming  towards  them,  from  an  easterly 
direction. 

On  its  back  was  a  stout,  middle-aged  man,  of  the  farmer 
class. 

Presumably  a  sheep  farmer,  who  had  been  to  Masdon 
on  business. 

Slung  over  the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  were  two  bags 
or  holsters. 

This  indicated  that  he  lived  at  some  distance,  and  had 
to  go  a  long  journey. 

The  bags,  no  doubt,  contained  provisions,  clothing, 
and  perhaps  cash. 


3 1 6  JACK  HARK  A  WAY  AND  HIS  SON'S 

The  traveller  did  not  see  the  Queen  of  the  Bushrangers 
nor  Bob  Morgan. 

He  jogged  on  his  way,  happily  and  contentedly  enough. 

A  satisfied  smile  sat  on  his  rubicund  countenance, 
whichseemed  to  indicate  that  he  hadmadeagood  bargain. 

No  suspicion  of  danger  crossed  his  mind. 

It  was  to  him,  as  if  bushrangers  did  not  exist. 

"  Hush  !  "  whispered  Fighting  Sue.      "Mine  !  " 

''All  right !  If  you  want  a  horse,  have  it.  I  can  foot 
it  where  I  am  going.  It's  nothing  new  to  me  to  pad  the 
hoof. " 

He  put  his  back  against  the  tree,  and  watched  his 
sister-in-law. 

Fighting  Sue  stepped  out  boldly  into  the  road. 

She  stood  in  front  of  the  traveller,  pistol  in  hand. 

"Halt !  "  she  cried. 

The  man  turned  pale  at  the  sight  of  this  armed  Amazon 
in  his  path. 

It  portended  danger,  perhaps  death. 

He  drew  rein  in  an  instant,  but  did  not  attempt  to  de- 
fend either  himself  or  his  property. 

"Take  all  I  have  !  "  he  whined  ;   "but  spare  my  life." 

"Get  down  from  that  horse,"  replied  Sue. 

The  traveller  did  so. 

"Throw  your  shooting-iron  upon  the  road,"  she  con- 
tinued. 

' '  I  haven't  got  one.  I'm  Titus  West,  the  Quaker  ; 
fighting's  against  my  religion,"  was  the  answer. 

"  What  have  you  got  in  your  saddle-bags  ? " 

"  Only  clothes,  good  woman,  and  a  bag  of  biscuits  to 
sustain  me  on  my  journey.  Let  me  have  them,  I  pray 
you." 

"No,  they  are  mine.  I  don't  believe  they  hold  what 
you  say." 

"Yea,  verily." 

"  I  shall  keep  the  horse  and  the  bags.  You  can  make 
tracks." 

"My  steed  is  valuable.  Who  art  thou,  woman  of 
wrath  and  violence  ? " 

"Fighting  Sue  Morgan,  wife  of  the  bushranger.  Cut 
it,  quick,"  she  answered. 

"Art  thou  not  afraid  of  punishment  here,  and  of  more 
in  the  dread  hereafter  ?  "  - 


AD  VENTURES  IN  A  USTRAUA.  3 1 7 

"  I  fear  nothing — never  did.     I  wasn't  made  that  way. " 

"This  is  cruel  of  thee,  sister.  Many  miles  shall  I  have 
to  trudge  down  this  lonely  road,  ere  I  rejoin  my  wife  and 
children." 

"Bob  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Morgan. 

The  bushranger  emerged  from  his  place  of  conceal- 
ment. 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  he  demanded. 

"Just  oblige  me  by  booting  this  chap,  and  helping 
him  on  his  way,"  said  Sue. 

"  Right  you  are,  my  beauty." 

He  made  a  rush  for  the  Quaker,  Titus  West,  and  caught 
him  as  he  darted  into  some  scrub  growing  by  the  road- 
side. 

He  gave  him  a  blow  on  the  head  with  his  clenched 
fast,  which  partially  stunned  him. 

Returning  to  Sue,  he  said,  "  I've  settled  the  Quaker. 
Let  us  see  what  the  saddle-bags  contain." 

They  untied  them. 

In  one  they  found  an  abundant  supply  of  cold  fowl, 
ham,  roast  mutton,  and  damper,  some  whisky,  bottled 
beer,  and  wine. 

In  the  other  was  a  bundle  of  clothing,  and  a  hundred 
and  fifty  sovereigns  in  a  canvas  bag. 

"Halves!"  cried  Bob  Morgan,  as  he  counted  the 
money  and  filled  his  pockets. 

' '  Take  the  dross  I  I  shall  not  need  it, "  replied  Fight- 
ing Sue. 

"  All  of  it,  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Every  pound." 

' '  By  George  !  Sue,  you're  a  trump !  I  wish  you  would 
come  with  me." 

"  No.     My  task  must  be  worked  out  here,  I  tell  you." 

"  Have  your  way,  though  I'm  sorry  for  you." 

"I  don't  want  your  pity.  My  life  is  done,  for  all 
practical  purposes.  I  am  dead  already." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  When  I  have  destroyed  those  who  destroyed  mine,  I 
will  die  with  pleasure,  by  my  own  hand,"  Sue  replied, 
determinedly. 

"  I  can't  help  it.  A  man  might  as  well  talk  to  a  bricfa 
wall,  as  argue  with  an  obstinate  woman. " 

"Death  to  the  Harkaways  '  " 


3 18  JACK  HA RKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON 'S 

"By  all  means;  kill  the  whole  party  if  you  like,  root 
tnd  branch,"  said  Bob. 

"If  I  don't " 

"Let  the  matter  drop,  and  have  some  refreshment. 
The  Quaker  didn't  mean  to  starve  on  his  journey,"  inter- 
rupted Bob. 

Taking  out  his  knife,  the  bushranger  helped  himself  to 
fowl  and  ham,  and  a  bottle  of  beer. 

Fighting  Sue  looked  on  in  sullen  silence. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  join  in  ? "  he  enquired. 

"I  can't  eat.  My  brain  is  over-excited.  Where  do 
you  think  they  have  led  the  bush-boy  to  ?  "  she  replied. 

"Up  the  road  to  the  '  Bully  Boy,'  I  expect,  to  get  some 
breakfast. " 

"I'll  ride  there." 

Fighting  Sue  sprang  upon  the  horse's  back. 

She  was  an  excellent  rider,  and  could  sit  in  the  saddle 
all  day  long,  with  a  man's  endurance. 

He  saw  that  it  was  no  use  to  try  to  persuade  her  to 
accompany  him. 

As  far  as  he  was  concerned,  his  brother,  the  notorious 
bushranger,  was  dead,  and  there  was  an  end  of  the  matter. 

Morgan  the  elder  had  made  the  Australian  continent 
ring  with  his  name. 

But,  after  what  had  recently  happened,  Bob  had  no 
desire  to  take  his  place. 

He  held  out  his  hand. 

"Good-bye,  Sue  !  "  he  said.  "  I  suppose  it  is  useless 
for  me  to  say,  '  Heaven  bless  you ! '  but  you  know  what 
I  mean." 

"  Heaven  has  not  blessed  me  living,  it  will  not  do  so 
dead, "  she  replied,  coldly. 

"It's  a  hard  world,  Sue." 

" To  some  ;  not  to  all." 

"I  suppose  it's  what  we  make  it.  For  my  part,  I've  a 
mind  to  work  for  an  honest  living." 

"You?"  she  cried,  scornfully.  "You  couldn't  do  it. 
Farewell  !  we  shall  never  meet  again. " 

Her  words  were  prophetic. 


AD  FAA  7  URES  IN  A  USTRAUA.  3 1 9 

CHAPTER  XLIX. 

ONE  BY   HERSELF. 

THEY  shook  hands,  Bob  being  between  her  and  the  bush. 

This  action  saved  her  life,  but  lost  him  his  own. 

The  Quaker  whom  they  had  robbed  had  been  forgotten 
by  them. 

He  had  recovered  from  the  knockdown  blow  he  had 
received. 

When  he  had  stated  that  he  was  not  armed,  he  told  a 
falsehood. 

In  his  pocket  he  had  a  pistol. 

Enraged  at  being  robbed  and  assaulted,  he  determined 
to  try  and  get  back  his  own. 

Stepping  into  the  road,  he  presented  his  pistol,  and  fired 
at  Fighting  Sue. 

His  aim  was  a  good  one. 

He  had  not  been  shooting  kangaroo,  rabbits,  and  wal- 
laby all  his  life  for  nothing. 

The  bullet  sped  on  its  way. 

It  was  at  this  very  juncture  that  Bob  Morgan  shook 
hands  with  his  sister-in  law. 

He  stepped  straight  in  a  line  with  the  ball. 

It  struck  him  in  the  back,  and  went  direct  to  his  heart 

With  a  hollow,  sepulchral  groan,  the  bushranger  fell 
heavily  to  the  ground. 

Fighting  Sue  knew  in  a  moment  where  to  find  her  re- 
volver. 

There  was  no  hesitation  about  her  movements. 

Before  the  Quaker  could  shoot  again,  she  fired. 

The  bullet  struck  him  in  the  forehead. 

It  was  buried  in  his  brain. 

Throwing  up  his  arms  wildly,  he  sank  down  in  a  con- 
vulsed heap. 

Whipping  up  her  horse — it  was  hers  by  capture  now — 
Fighting  Sue  galloped  up  the  road. 

"I  am  one  by  myself!  "  she  muttered.  "That  is  what 
I  thought  it  would  come  to  ;  but  I  have  lived  alone  and 
worked  alone  before-  -and  can  do  it  again. " 

She  sat  the  horse  like  a  man. 


320  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

The  inn  kept  by  Garrat,  and  called  the  "Bully  Boy,** 
was,  as  we  know,  only  a  few  miles  up  the  road. 

Young  Jack  and  his  companions  did  not  know  her. 

On  the  landlord  she  thought  she  could  rely  for  assist- 
ance and  shelter. 

He  had  been  a  staunch  friend  of  her  late  husband's. 

The  bushrangers  had  spent  a  large  portion  of  their  ill- 
gotten  gains  in  his  tavern. 

He  had  known  most  of  them  intimately,  and  had  re- 
ceived stolen  goods  from  them. 

Why  should  she  not  rely  upon  such  a  man  as  this  ? 

But  she  did  not  thoroughly  understand  the  character  of 
Garrat. 

There  were  two  sides  of  it,  as  she  had  yet  to  find  out. 

He  loved  himself  first,  and  everyone  else  afterwards. 

Riding  into  the  stable  yard,  she  hitched  the  horse  to 
a  post,  and  looked  around  her. 

The  landlord  of  the  "Bully  Boy"  was  standing  at  his 
back  door. 

She  advanced,  and  greeted  him  warmly. 

"Who  have  you  here ? "  she  asked. 

"Young  Jack  Harkaway,  and  three  friends,"  replied 
Garrat.  "  They  are  breakfasting  ;  and  a  very  jolly  party 
they  are." 

"  I  will  soon  put  a  stop  to  their  jollity  !  " 

"What  do  you  intend  to  do? " 

"Never  mind — you  will  see  presently.  Have  they 
spoken  about  me  ? " 

"A  good  deal.  They  destroyed  your  band  last  night, 
and  this  morning  saved  the  bushboy,  Tinker,  when  you 
had  started  to  burn  him." 

"  Quite  true.     Curses  on  them  !  " 

"Are  all  the  men  gone?"  asked  Garrat,  leading  her 
into  a  small  room. 

"Every  one  of  them,"  answered  Fighting  Sue. 

"  That's  bad.  What  are  you  going  to  do?'  enquired 
Garrat. 

"  Have  my  revenge  on  the  two  Harkaways,  and  then 
put  an  ounce  of  lead  in  my  brain." 

"Better  go  home,  and  make  the  best  of  it." 

"Not  I.  Do  you  think  I  want  to  live?  Let  me  stay 
here  till  the  party  start  for  Harkawayville,  and  I'll  givo 
them  four  chambers  out  of  my  revolver, "  said  Fighting  Sue. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


321 


"Certainly.  You  are  welcome.  Can  I  gee  you  any 
thing  ? " 

"No.  I  require  neither  meat  nor  drink  at  present 
Leave  me.  Tell  me  when  they  are  about  to  start." 

"  I  will  not  fail  to  do  so, "rejoined  Garrat 

"If  you  deceive  me,  beware  ! " 

"Is  it  likely  I  should  do  so?  Depend  on  me.  I  am 
you  true  friend — as  I  was  your  husband,  Mr.  Morgan's  " 

"  Thanks.     I  believe  you  !  "  she  replied. 

The  room  was  a  private  parlour — like  all  the  apartments 
on  the  ground-floor  of  the  inn.  The  windows  were  heav- 
ily barred. 

No  one  could  get  in  or  out  that  way. 

This  was  a  precaution  taken  against  tramps,  and  bad 
characters  generally. 

The  key  of  the  door  was  on  the  outside. 

As  Garrat  closed  the  door,  he  softly  turned  the  key. 

The  door  was  effectually  locked. 

Fighting  Sue  was  a  prisoner,  although  she  had  not  the 
least  inkling  of  the  plot. 

Going  into  the  apartment  where  young  Jack  and  the  rest 
had  been  breakfasting,  Garrat  found  them  ready  to  depart. 

"Bill,  landlord  !  What's  the  damage — how  much  do 
I  owe  you  ?  "  cried  young  Jack. 

"Nothing,  Mr.  Harkaway,"  answered  Garrat 

"Oh  !  that  won't  do." 

"I  shall  make  no  charge." 

"But  I  like  to  pay  my  way,  wherever  I  go,  and  not  lay 
myself  under  an  obligation  or  favour  to  anybody." 

"  Your  company  and  patronage  is  an  honour  that  over- 
pays me." 

' '  Lay  it  on  thick.  What  are  you  driving  at  ?  "  demanded 
Jack. 

"  Would  you  give  any  reward  for  the  capture  of  Mrs. 
Morgan,  alias  Fighting  Sue  ?  "  asked  Garrat. 

"Yes.     I'll  guarantee  you  a  hundred  pounds." 

" \Vho  from?  " 

"  My  father  will  pay  it,"  replied  young  Jack. 

"  Good  enough  I     You  can  have  her." 

"  In  the  bush,  I  suppose.  But  we've  got  to  catch  her 
first." 

"Not  at  all  !  She's  one  by  herself  now,  and  she's 
securely  confined  in  this  house." 

31 


322  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND  HIS  SON'S 

"You  don't  mean  it  !" 

"I  do  ;  true  as  gospel  !  " 

All  looked  at  him  in  amazement. 

They  were  scarcely  able  to  believe  the  evidence  of  their 
senses. 

Garrat  briefly  explained  how  Fighting  Sue  had  come  to 
him  for  shelter,  with  the  ultimate  intention  of  killkig  Jack 
Harkaway  and  his  son,  and  how  he  had  trapped  her. 

"  Bravo  !  "  exclaimed  Jack.  "  That  is  splendid.  Keep 
her  under  lock  and  key.  Stop  here,  Harry,  Monday,  and 
Tinker.  Gire  me  a  horse  ;  I'll  ride  over  to  Masdon,  and 
get  a  couple  of  constables." 

'  No  occasion  for  that,"  said  Garrat. 
'Why  not?" 

'  You  know  Sheriff  Hardrock  was  murdered  here  yes- 
terday. " 

'  Yes, "  answered  Jack. 

'  I  have  sent  for  the  police.     They  will  be  here  directly. " 

'  Excellent  !  " 

Suddenly  there  was  a  great  noise  at  the  end  of  the 
passage. 

Some  one  was  banging  and  knocking  against  a  door. 

Loud,  fearful,  and  frenzied  shrieks  arose. 

It  was  a  paroxysm  of  passion  and  frenzy. 

This  lasted  for  a  few  minutes. 

Then  there  was  the  sound  of  a  pistol  shot. 

Garrat  ran  forward,  and  unlocked  the  door  of  the  room 
in  which  he  had  confined  Mrs.  Morgan. 

As  he  had  expected,  he  found  her  lying  in  a  pool  of 
blood,  stone  dead. 

She  had  tried  to  get  out,  and  could  not. 

Finding  she  was  betrayed,  rather  than  fall  into  the  hands 
of  the  police,  she  had  taken  her  own  life. 

Fighting  Sue's  troubles  were  all  over. 

The  mad  Queen  of  the  Bushrangers  was  no  more. 
*  ***** 

Young  Jack  and  his  companions  returned  at  once  to 
Harkawayville. 

They  were  cordially  congratulated  by  all  upon  what  they 
had  so  pluckily  accomplished. 

All  their  troubles  were  over. 


ADVENTURES  IN  AUSTRALIA. 


:HAPTER  THE  LAST. 


323 


ENGLAND  ONCE  MORE TINKER'S  GRANDEUR  AND  HIS  MYSTERY  !— • 

FUTURE  PROSPECTS  AND  PROMISES FAREWELL. 

"  I  AM  heart-sick  of  this  place,"  said  Harkaway.  "  But 
I  haven't  come  across  a  spot  that  I  like  more  than  the 

"  '  Land  that  bears  a  well-known  name,' 

as  the  song  says,  and  back  I  go." 

"To  England?" 

"What  else?" 

"  And  what  about  Harkawayville  ?  "  demanded  Harvey. 

"  Leave  it  where  it  is.  Pick  out  the  most  intelligent  of 
the  settlers  for  the  high  places — give  Rook  a  chance  of 
doing  better  things  now  that  he  is  convalescent — and 
hurrah  for  Old  England  !  The  associations  of  the  place 
are  too  sad,  now.  Poor  Hunston's  sad  fate  I  can  never 
forget  if  I  remain  here.  His  grave  shall  be  well  cared  for, 
by  the  best  man  I  can  find,  for  I  shall  remember  that  he 
was  once  my  playmate  and  schoolfellow." 

So  it  was  agreed  that  they  should  return  at  an  early 
date. 

'My  boy,  Tinker,  must  go  with  us,  dad." 
'Of  course,"  said  Harkaway. 

'  I  couldn't  do  without  my  boy  Tinker,"  said  youngjack. 
'Of  course  not." 

'  Why,  what  with  Mike  and  Nero  and  Tinker,"  said  Mr. 
Mole,  "you'll  have  quite  a  menagerie." 

The  preparations  for  the  return  of  our  friends  to  England 
were  necessarily  rather  lengthy. 

But  at  length  the  day  arrived,  and  the  whole  settlement 
trooped  down  in  a  body  to  the  seaport  to  see  the  em- 
barkation of  the  party. 

Cheers,  hurrahs,  and  sighs  of  regret  were  sent  after  them. 

But  not  one  of  the  settlers  from  Harkawayville  but 
wished  them  all  God  speed. 

And  now  that  Harkaway  and  his  son  have  completed 
their  journeys  together,  we  and  they  make  our  respective 
bows  to  the  courteous  readers  who  have  so  long  borne  us 
company. 

THE    END. 


Famous  Books  by  Famous  Authors 


DOWN     THE 
SLOPE 

By  JAMES  OTIS 

The  hero  of  this  story  is  a  young  boy 
who,  in  order  to  assist  his  mother,  works 
as  a  "breaker"  in  a  coal  mine.  The  book 
tells  how  coal  miners  work;  their  social 
condition;  their  hardships  and  pri- 
vations. 

TEDDY 

By  JAMES  OTIS 

A  captivating  story  of  how  Teddy,  a  village  boy,  helped  to  raise  the 
mortgage  on  his  mother's  home,'  and  the  means  he  took  for  doing  so.  The 
obstacles  his  crabbed  uncle  placed  in  his  way;  his  connection  with  the 
fakirs  at  the  County  Fair;  his  successful  Cane  and  Knife  Board  venture; 
his  queer  lot  of  friends  and  how  they  aided  him;  and  how  he  finally  out- 
witted his  enemies. 

TELEGRAPH  TOM'S  VENTURE 

By  JAMES  OTIS 

A  highly  entertaining  story  of  the  adventures  of  a  boy  who  assisted  a 
United  _  States  officer  of  the  law  in  working  up  a  famous  case.  The  nar- 
rative is  both  interesting  and  instructive  in  that  it  shows  what  a  bright 
boy  can  accomplish  when  thrown  upon  his  own  resources,  and  also  portrays 
the  manner  in  which  such  officers  do  their  work. 


MESSENGER  NO.  48 

By  JAMES  OTIS 

Relates  the  experience  of  a  faithful  messenger  boy  in  a  large  city,  who  in 
answering  a  call  was  the  means  of  ferreting  out  a  band  of  criminals  who 
for  years  had  baffled  the  police  and  detectives.  The  story  tells  of  the  many 
dangers  and  hardships  these  boys  have  to  undergo,  the  important  services 
the>  often  render  by  their  clever  movements;  and  how  by  his  fidelity  to 
duty,  Messenger  Boy.  No.  48  rose  to  a  most  important  position  of  trust  and 
honor.  It  teaches  boys  that  self-reliance,  pluck  and  the  faithful  performance 
of  duties  are  the  real  secrets  of  success.  24 1  pages. 

These  books  are  bound  in  cloth:  have  attractive  cover  designs  stamped 
in  two  colors,  with  titles  stamped  in  gold,  illustrated;  12mos. 

For  sale  by  all  Book  and  Newsdealers,  or  will  be  sent  to  any  address  in  the 

U.  S.i  Canada  or  Mexico,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price,  $1.00 

each,  in  currency,  money  order  or  stamps. 

407-429  Dearborn  Street, 
CHICAGO 


M.  A.  Donohue  £?  Co. 


UPWARD  SERIES 

BOOKS    I  6  Vo»».  to  a  Set  | 


I  In  Sets  for  Girls 
P  RICE 


THREE    DOLLARS    PER    SET 


IN  offering  the 
books  listed 
below,  made 
np  in  attractive, 
popular  priced 
sets  for  girls,  we 
feel  that  we  will 
be  filling  a  long 
felt  want  in  sup- 
plying the  works 
of  these  great 
authoresses,nicely 
boxed  and  sub- 
stantially bound 
in  a  uniform  series 
of  six  volumes  in 
each  set,  which 
will  make  a  pre- 
tentious gift  of  the 
girl's  greatest 

treasures,  and  un-         

donbtedly  will  ap- 
peal more  strongly  to  them  by  making  a  uniform  addition  or  establishing 
a  substantial  foundation  to  the  library,  which  is  always  dear  to  a  girl's 
heart.  Each  set  is_  uniformly  bound  and  each  volume  attractively 
stamped  in  appropriate  design  in  three  colors. 

PALACE  BEAUTIFUL  SERIES.    By  Mrs.  L.T.  Meade 

Good  Luck          Polly— A  New  Fashioned  Girl          Wild  Kitty 
Sweet  Girl  Graduate  Palace  Beautiful  Deb  and  the  Duchess 

WORLD  OF  GIRLS  SERIES.    By  Mrs.  L.  T.  Meade 

World  of  Girls  Merry  Girls  of  England  Out  of  the  Fashion 

The  Young  Mutineer        Daddy's  Girl         A  Very  Naughty  Girl 

ROBIN  REDBREAST  SERIES.  By  Mrs.  Molesworth 


Robin  Redbreast 
Grandmother  Dear 


"Us" 
Girls  and  I 


Cuckoo  Clock 

Girls  in  Black 


LITTLE  PRUDY  SERIES.    By  Sophie  May 

Little  Prudy's  Story  Book         Little  Prudy         Little  Prudy's  Sister  Susy 

Little  Prudy's  Cousin  Grace  Little  Prudy's  Dotty  Dimple 

Little  Prudy's  Captain  Horace 

Any  of  the  above  sets  of  six  volumes  sent  to  any  address  on  receipt  of 
$3.00,  or  any  individual  title  will  be  sent  upon  receipt  of  75c. 

M.    A.    DONOHUE    Z*>     COMPANY 

407-429  Dearborn  Street,  Chicago 


ONWARD    SERIES 

lf\    Seta    for  Boys    of  BOOKS    6  Vols.  to  Each  Set 


J'E  are  issuing  in  this 
series  of  sets  only 
the  highest  class 
and  best  known 
sets  of  popular 
works  for  boys 
by  the  most  pop- 
ular of  all  boys' 
writers.  Inoffer- 
ingthese  sets,  we 
are  giving  the 
firstopportunity 
of  securing  uni- 
formly bound 
sets  of  these 
works,  attract- 
ively packed  in 
substantial  box- 
es. They  will  un- 
doubtedly dem- 
onstrate their 
salability  on  ac- 
count of  the 
elaborate  show- 
ing which  can  be 

made  by  a  present  of  this  kind  for  a  moderate  price.  The  books  are  all  printed 
from  new  plates,  clear  type,  on  an  extra  quality  of  paper,  and  bound  in  su- 
perior binder's  cloth,  each  series  having  an  attractive  cover  design,  stamped 
in  three  colors  and  gold. 

THE  GUNBOAT  SERIES.     By  Harry  Castlemon. 

Frank  the  Young  Naturalitt  Frank  in  the  Woods  Frank  on  a  Gunboat 

Frank  on  the  Lower  Mississippi         Frank  Before  Vicksburg  Frank  on  the  Prairie 

THE  BOAT  CLUB  SERIES.    By  Oliver  Optic. 

ill  Aboard  Boat  Club  little  by  Little 

low  or  Never  Poor  and  Proud  Try  Again 

THE  WOOD  RANGERS  SERIES.     By  Capt.  Mayne  Reid. 
Boy  Hunter*  Lone  Ranch  Rifle  Rangers 

Scalp  Hunters  Afloat  in  the  forest  Desert  Home 

THE  LEATHER  STOCKING  SERIES.     By  J.  Fenimore  Cooper. 

The  Deerslayer  Last  of  the  Mohicans  Pioneert 

The  Prairie  The  Pathfinder  The  Spy 

LUCK  AND  PLUCK  SERIES.     By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr. 
Sink  or  Swim  Strong  and  Steady  Strive  and  Succeed 

Try  and  Trnst  Risen  from  the  Ranks  Bound  to  Rise 

TATTERED  TOM  SERIES.     By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr. 

P»ul  the  Peddler  Phil  the  Fiddler  Julius  the  Street  B*y 

Slow  and  Sure  Sam's  Chance  The  Young  Outlaw 

WAY  TO  SUCCESS  SERIES.     By  Horatio  Alger,  Jr. 

Bob  Burton  The  Store  Boy  Struggling  Upward 

Luke  Valton  Facing  the  WorH  In  a  Hew  Vorld 

ty%  °™tlie  ab°ve  se*s  of  six  volumes,  sent  to  any  address  on  receipt 
of  $3.00,  or  any  individual  title  will  be  sent  on  receipt  of  75  cents 


M.      A.      DONOHUE 

407-429  Dearborn   Street 


<a       COMPANY 
:-   Chicago,   Illinois 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


Form  L-f- 
23m-w,'  41(2)91) 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


PZ7 

H37je     Hemyng,   - 

and  his   son's  adven- 


PZ7 
H37je 


